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SEVEN  YEARS        ^ 


A    SAILOR'S    LIFE 


BY 

GEORGE    EDWARD  iCLARK. 

"  Yankeb  Ned,"  of  Lynn,  Mass. 


WITH  NINE   ELEGANT    ILLTJSTRATIONS, 

ENGRAVED  FROM  THE  AUTHOR'S  SKETCHES. 


BOSTON: 
ADAMS    &    COMPANY, 

25  Bromfield  Street. 


GIFT  OP 

profess:."  C.A.    KOFOID 

Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1867, 

By  ADAMS  &  COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Ofittce  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Massachusetti. 


Stkbeotyped  bt  W.  F.  Brown  &  Co. 
ENaaAviNQS  bt  Joun  And&ew. 


"^V^vip 


CONTENTS 


Chapter  1 11-18 

My  Birth  —  Early  Longings  for  the  Sea  —  Warnings  Unheeded  — 
Boats  and  Books  —  Leaving  School  —  My  First  Voyage  —  On 
Board  — The  Cook  Reckons— Ship  Work  — The  Coast  of  the 
Eastern  States  —  Classes  of  Men  and  Occupations  —  Fishing  and 
Coasting  —  The  Sailors'  Mission  —  "Nothing  to  Laugh  at"  — 
Death  of  the  Steward  —  Home  Again —  Sea  Togs  Laid  Aside. 

Chapter  II 19-27 

At  a  Trade  —  "He  will  never  make  a  Printer" — Discontent  on 
Shore  —  Another  Voyage  in  View  —  My  Joy  at  its  Height  — 
Shipped  Again  —  The  "  Guide  "  and  her  Crew  —  Don't  be  so  fast, 
Ned  —  The  Landlord's  Attentions  —  Getting  under  Way — Off 
for  Zanzibar  —  Farewell,  Yankee-Land  —  In  the  Gulf — Sea  Sick, 
but  not  sick  of  the  Sea — A  Squall  —  Land,  Ho  —  The  Catama- 
ran—  Crossing  the  Line  —  Rough  Usage — Baptized  in  a  Tub 
and  made  a  Son  of  Neptune  —  I  can't  see  it  —  The  "Line  "  seen 
through  a  Spy  Glass  —  The  "Great  Republic"  right  ahead.  Sir  — 
Off  the  Cape  — The  Albatross  and  Cold  Weather— The  Cape 
safely  doubled. 

Chapter  III 28-37 

Mozambique  Channel  —  Hove  to — The  Signal — ^  The  Pilot  on 
Board  —  A  Joke  that  was  not  a  Joke  —  Unloading  —  A  Yankee 
Among  the  Sharks  —  A  Mutiny  Planned  —  "  Forewarned  is 
Forearmed  —  Watching  for  the  First  Move  —  The  Attempt  at 
Midnight  —  The  Struggle  —  The  Arrest  —  All  Right  Again  —  A 
Jaunt  on  Shore  —  The  Jetty  — Mozambique  and  its  People  —  Co- 
coa Nut  and  Palm  Trees  —  Ready  for  a  Start. 


iw2l682J2 


Contents, 
Chapter  IY 38-46 

Ho  for  Zanzibar  —  Charming  Weather  and  Scenery  —  Pilot  Fish 
and  Johnny  Shark  —  The  Island  in  View  —  "  Under  the  Sand  "  — 
Harbor  Scenes  —  A  Pull  for  the  Shore  —  Dress  and  Manners  — 
A  Fearful  Weapon  —  "  Old  Sides  "  and  his  Pet  Boys  —  A  Visit  to 
the  Shell  Shops  —  Oddities  and  Curious  Sights  —  Buying  Monkeys 

—  Slave  Market  at  Zanzibar^  Ten  Dollars  a  Head —  A  Man  with 
Fifty  Wives  —  Rough  Sport- — Sails  set  for  Aden  —  Passengers 
Received — Underway. 

Chapter  Y.    ..... 47-61 

A  Lively  Time  —  Arab  Dirks  and  Yankee  Shooters — "Too Much 
Rumpee  "  —  "All  Right,  Old  Kick-Shins" — Prophetic  Dreams 

—  On  like  a  Racer  —  More  Swift  than  Sure  —  She  Strikes  the 
Shore  —  High  and  Dry  —  The  Beginning  of  our  Sufferings  — 
Resignation  of  Madame  Mass — -Discovered  by  the  Natives  — 
Five  Hundred  on  Board,  fully  Armed  —  Submission  our  only 
Safety  —  A  Sudden  Reprieve  —  We  are  ordered  to  the  Village  — 
Horrible  Agony  —  New  York  Papers  Devoured  —  Perishing  with 
Hunger  and  Thirst — Desperation  of  some  of  the  Party  —  Reason 
Gone  —  Left  Behind  —  The  Dawn  of  Hope. 

Chapter  YI 62-72 

Plenty  of  Gold  but  no  Food  —  A  Parting  —  The  Last  Good  Bye  — 
Our  Strength  Leaving  Us  —  All  Grows  Dark  and  I  become  Uncon- 
scious—  Aid  from  the  Natives  —  "  Agoa,  Agoa"  —  At  the  Wreck 
Again  —  Arrival  of  Those  we  Left  Behind  —  Faithfulness  of  the 

Chapter  YII 73-83 

The  Chief's  Watchfulness  —  The  Cook's  Queer  Barriers  of  Fat  — 
Do  They  Mean  to  Starve  Us  —  Slavery  or  Death  —  Which  shall 
it  Be —  Our  Fate  Decided  by  a  Goat  —  Our  Ransom  Price  Fixed 

—  Our  Treatment  Changed  for  the  Better  —  The  March  Com- 
menced —  "  Old  Abdallah  " '—  Mahommedan  Prayers  —  Camel 
Train  Met  —  Green  Grass  Once  More  —  Arrival  at  the  Well  —  A 
Feast  of  Welcome  —  Preparations  to  Resume  Our  March  —  The 
African  Girls  Anxious  to  Rub  Noses  at  Parting  —  We  decline  the 
Honor  —  Five  Days  of  Marching  —  Our  Destination  in  View. 


Contents, 

Slave  Girl  —  Dr.  Ray  makes  Up  his  Mind  —  Queer  Antics  of  the 
Natives  T- Food  and  Water  Found  —  Councils  on  Shore  —  Shall 
we  be  Killed  or  Ransomed  —  Buttered  Gold  —  Dexterity  of  the 
Negro  Women —  Our  Fate  in  Suspense. 

Chapter  YIII 84-90 

Reception  at  the  Natives'  Town—  Our  Prison  — The  Savages  mis- 
take Epsom  Salts  for  Sugar  —  Walking  Skeletons — Our  Partial 
Blindness — The  Seide  Boys  —  The  Fishermen's  Village  —  Jus- 
tice as  Administered  by  Barbarians  —  The  African  at  Home  — 
Our  Pitiable  Condition  —  A  Proposition  Accepted  —  Yankee  In- 
genuity Tested  —  A  Midnight  Banquet  —  Ready  for  Departure  — 
A  Strong  Guard  over  us  —  Off 

Chapter  IX 91-98 

Our  Boat  and  Companions  —  One  of  the  Natives  Overboard  —  The 
"Stars  and  Stripes"  in  Sight — Delusive  Hopes — On  the  Red 
Sea  —  Arabia  near  at  Hand  —  Mocolo  —  In  the  Harbor  —  Old  AH 
caught  in  his  own  Trap  —  He  gets  the  Worst  of  the  Bargain  and 
Hurries  off  to  save  his  Life  —  Kindness  of  the  Sultan  —  All  our 
Wants  Supplied — We  begin  to  Feel  like  Men — Sights  and 
Sounds  at  Mocolo. 

Chapter  X 99-105 

Dates  Brought  us  —  Bible  Scenes  —  Howlers,  Contortioners,  and 
Lepers  —  Veiled  Women  —  Arabian  Beauty  —  Camel  Trains  — 
Mocolo  and  the  People  Described  —  A  Mysterious  Building  — 
The  Bazaars  and  their  Trade  —  The  Call  from  the  Minaret  —  An 
Agreeable  Surprise  —  Opening  of  the  Tombs  —  A  Day  of  Festivity 

—  Gay  Scenes  —  The  Bedouins  dash  into  Town  —  Splendid 
Horsemanship  —  The  Holiday  Over  —  Glad  Tidings  —  Good 
Prospects. 

Chapter  XI.  . 106-113 

Thoughts  on  Leaving  Mocolo  —  The  Boat  and  Escort  —  Loaded  up 

—  Farewell  to  our  Dusky  Friends  —  A  Good  Bill  of  Fare —  Aden 
in  Sight  —  Our  Raptures  on  Seeing  an  American  Ship  —  All  Hail, 
Stars  and  Stripes  —  Passing  up  the  Harbor  —  Joyful  Meeting  of 


Contents, 

Madam  Mass  with  her  Husband  and  Friends  —  Ashore  —  Speech 
of  the  Captain  of  the  Guide  —  The  Sailor's  Boarding- House  at 
Aden  —  The  Hindoo  Landlord — Rough  Scenes  and  Tough 
Scenes. 

Chapter  XII 114-123 

Respectable  Again  —  A  Tropical  Rain  —  All  Afloat — Stampede  of 
the  Boarders  —  Houses  in  Ruins  —  A  Welcome  Letter  from 
Home  —  Parting  with  our  Captain  and  Companions  in  Captivity 

—  What  is  to  be  Seen  at  Aden —  An  Enraged  Native  —  Donkey 
Tricks  on  Sailors  —  A  Curiously  Tattooed  Arab  Girl  —  Passports 
Obtained — We  Ship  for  Bombay  —  A  Good  Berth  —  Preparing 
to  Leave  Port  —  Ostrich  Feather  Merchants  —  One  Trick  of 
Many. 

Chapter  XIII 124-131 

Clearing  the  Hawser  —  A  Day's  Liberty,  and  what  Came  of  It  —  The 
"Charger"  Underway — Life  on  Board  a  "Juicer"  —  Lively  Ra- 
tions—  Sick  Men  attended  by  Rats — The  Dogs  Put  on  Duty  — 
I  become  a  Fancy  Painter  —  A  Rough  and  Tumble  Encounter  — 
Narrow  Escape  from  Another  Wreck  —  Among  the  Water  Snakes 

—  Nearing  Bombay  —  End  of  Sixty  Day's  Tacking. 

Chapter  XIY 132-142 

At  Bombay  —  Visit  to  the  Consul  —  Kind  Reception  —  A  "Bully" 
Captain  after  some  Men — A  General  Dislike  —  I  Run  the  Risk 
and  Ship  for  Home  — A  Strange  Crew — The  **Boy  Bill"  — 
Rough  Sport  —  The  Cargo  and  Manner  of  Loading  —  "Yankee 
Ned  "  in  the  Tank  —  Bum-Boats  and  their  Stock  in  Trade  —  One 
Day  Ashore  —  Palanquins  —  Banyan  Trees  —  Myriads  of  Doves 

—  Ready  for  Sea— The  Pilot  Aboard  —  A  trial  of  Speed  —  Our 
Yankee  Clipper  Wins. 

Chapter  XY 143-152 

Homeward  Bound  —  Good  Living  —  Mysterious  disappearance  of 
Poultry  —  Something  Like  a  Race  —  A  Terrific  Squall  —  Doub- 
ling the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  —  In  the  "  Trades  "  —  All  Hands 
Busy — Antics  of  the  Live  Stock  —  Laughable  Adventures  of  a 


Contents, 

Pig  —  Catching  Porpoises — A  Battle  with  a  Shark  —  Death  of 
the  Cook  —  An  Inhuman  Burial  —  In  a  Calm  —  Any  work  Rather 
than  no  Work  —  Squally  Weather  Returned  — A  Roll  in  the 
Scuppers  —  Oflf  Bermuda. 

Chapter  XYI 153-168 

Approaching  Cape  Hatteras  —  "  Steer  Small,  my  Hearties  "  —  Sai- 
lor's Rights  and  Sailor's  Wrongs  —  Spearing  Rats  —  A  Howling 
Gale  — Fierce  Combat  with  the  Storm  —  Good  bye,  Hatteras  — 
Beating  up  the  Coast — New  York  Pilots  —  Tug  Boats  at  Hand 

—  Familiar  Scenes  —  We  are  visited  by  Runners  and  False  Friends 

—  Jack  Tar  and  the  Land  Sharks  —  In  New  York  Harbor  —  *'  Let 
go  the  Anchor"  —  A  Narrow  Escape  —  My  Native  Land  Once 
More  —  By  Rail  to  Boston  —  The  Long  Voyage  Over  —  Home 
Again. 

Chapter  XYII.   . 169-178 

War  is  Declared  —  I  Join  the  Navy —  Scenes  on  Board  the  "  Guardo" 

—  Hard  Characters  —  The  "  Gemsbok"  and  her  Crew  —  Taking 
in  Powder  —  The  "  Congress  "  —  Outward  Bound  —  Holy-Stones 
and  *'  Prayer  Books  "  —  Fortress  Monroe  —  The  Rip-Raps  — 
Scenes  in  the  Bay  —  Prizes  —  Sailor's  Duty — The  Mail  Bag  — 
Hurrying  up  the  Letters  —  Our  Mess  Cook  —  What's  Up  Now? 

—  Departure  from  Hampton  Roads. 

Chapter  XYIII 179-189 

A  Fine  Run — Capture  of  a  Prize  —  Water  Spouts  —  In  a  Gale  — 
Washing  Up  —  The  Chase — Another  Blockade  Runner  Taken 

—  A  Yankee  Trick  — Rebel  Pilots  a  Little  out  of  their  Latitude  — 
Wilmington  Surprised  —  Arrival  of  the  "Young  Rover"  —  We 
Overhaul  a  Suspicious  Craft  —  The  "  Blue  Pigeon  "  Kept  on  the 
Wing  —  A  Boat  Load  of  Contrabands  Appear  and  Disappear  — 
Capture  of  the  "Beverly"  — I  am  Oflf  with  the  Prize— The 
"Young  Rover  "  mistakes  us  for  a  Runner  and  Captures  Us. 

Chapter  XIX 190-202 

A  Dismal  Storm  —  At  Fortress  Monroe  —  Oflf  with  the  Prize  to 
Baltimore  — A  Growling  Pilot  —  Contrasted  Scenes  — Jack  Tar 


Contents. 

and  his  Prize  Money  —  Transferred — The  Louisiana  —  Hawking 
Chestnuts  —  On  Board  the  Minnesota  —  Good  Order  —  Neat  and 
Trim —  Companion  in  my  African  Captivity  on  Board  — A  Happy 
Meeting  —  Fate  of  my  Old  Friend  —  The  Gemsbok —  Bad  Reports 

—  Exit  of  Incompetent  Officers. 

Chapter  XX 203-209 

Off  before  a  Nor' wester — A  Gale — Suspicious  Steamers  —  "A 
Full-Rigged  Brig  "  in  View  —  Every  Sail  in  Service  —  We  Rapidly 
Approach  our  Game  and  find  that  we  have  been  Chasing  a  Light- 
house— Auction  Sale  of  a  Letter  —  Beaufort  —  Cruising  —  A 
Practical  Joke  —  "  To  Grease  we  Give  our  Shining  Blades  "  — 
Foraging  for  Fresh  Beef —  A  Skirmish  with  the  Rebels. 

Chapter  XXI 210-216 

Burning  of  the  "  York  "  of  Dublin  —  Fishing  —  Stewed  Gulls  for  the 
Officers  —  Picket  Boats  —  Pitch  and  Toss  —  Worrying  the  Rebs 

—  The  "Jeff  Davis"— Our  Contrabands  —  Single  Stick  Exercise 

—  Plenty  to  Do — Man-of-War  Sports — Singing,  Dancing  and 
Spinning  Yarns  —  Mcintosh  promises  a  Yarn,  but  Dies  before  he 
can  Commence — The  Men  Awed  by  the  Sudden  Death  —  A 
Burial  at  Sea. 

Chapter  XXII 217-22T 

My  Narrow  Escape  —  Rough  Weather  —  Up  Anchors  and  Off — 
Hampton  Roads  Again  —  The  Burnside  Fleet  —  The  Old  "  Brandy- 
wine  "  —  Motley  Array  of  Shipping  —  Liberty  Men  lying  around 
Loose  —  A  Gala  Day  —  Great  Display  of  Bunting  —  A  Perilous 
Task  —  Strategic  Feat  of  the  "Nashville  "  —  An  Old  Sailor  Tells 
How  it  was  Done  —  The  "  Nashville  "  Tries  it  Again  —  Off  She 
Goes  —  An  Excited  Captain. 

Chapter  XXIII. 228-237 

Hotel  Burning —  Our  Grasp  Tightens  —  The  Rebels  Busy —  Sailors 
Camping  out  —  Attack  on  Fort  Macon  —  The  Army  Steadily  Ad- 
vancing—  The  "Daylight"  —  A  Rather  Ticklish  Position  — 
Dodging  the  Balls  —  The  Battle  and  the  Storm — Sharp  Practice 

—  The  Contest  Close,  Hot,  and  Heavy  —  Victoiy  —  Capture  of 


Contents,    . 

Beaufort— A  Jolly  Time  — A  Visit  to  the  Fort  — Talk  with  a 
Secesh  Soldier  —  Luxuries  —  Manning  the  Prize  Ships  —  Ofif  for 
Baltimore. 

Chapter  XXIV 240-248 

Cruising  for  a  Prize  —  The  Night  Chase  —  A  Fast  Sailor  tries  our 
Speed  —  Our  Captain  at  the  Guns  —  Capture  of  the  "  Ariel "  — 
A  Race  with  a  Steamer  —  We  are  ordered  to  Baltimore  —  In  Dock 
for  Repairs  —  The  "  Alleghany  "  —  Nine  Day's  Liberty  —  A 
General  Scattering  —  High  Life  and  Low  Life  —  "  Going  it  Blind  " 
—  A  Free  Fight  on  Board  the  Guardo  —  Return  to  the  "  Gems- 
bok  "  —  Off  she  Goes. 

Chapter  XXY 249-25T 

A  Recruiting  Expedition  —  Arrival  at  Provincetown  —  The  "  Gems- 
bok"  an  attractive  Visitor  —  Cape  Men  not  Easily  Caught  — 
Whalers  and  their  Boats  —  Adventure  with  a  Horse-Mackerel  — 
The  Dutchman  and  the  Skate-Fish — Pride  Humbled  —  Off  for 
Portland  —  A  Gay  Time  on  Board  —  Battle  Lanterns  and  Flags  ; 
Music  and  Dancing  —  A  Little  too  Much  for  the  Musicians  — 
Return  to  Provincetown  —  '*  Good  Bye,  Miss  Gemsbok  " —  Once 
more  at  Home. 

Chapter  XXYI 258-266 

Looking  for  Another  Ship  —  Off  for  Newbern  —  Questionable  Pat- 
riotism—  A  Race  at  Sea — Driven  by  a  Snow  Storm  —  Intense 
Cold  —  Delaware  Bay — On  Shore  —  A  Yankee  Woman  shows 
her  Colors — In  Philadelphia — Getting  Along  on  Short  Allow- 
ance —  A  old  Shipmate  Met  and  Provided  for  —  A  Bold  Leap  — 
Home. 

Chapter  XXYII 26T-277 

Merry  Times  at  Home  —  I  am  Bound  to  Go-a- Fishing  —  The 
"  We  're  Here  "  —  Cape  Cod  Again  —  A  Narrow  Escape  —  Using 
Up  the  Salt  —  Waking  the  Skipper  —  Fisherman's  Life  —  The 
"Texas"  —  In  a  Fog — Is  that  a  Privateer? — Home  Life  on 
the  Cape  —  The  Cod  Fisheries — How  They  are  Conducted  — 
The  Profits  —  Superiority  of  American  Fishing  Craft  —  The 
**  Marietta  "  —  Quick  Work. 


Contents, 
Chapter  XXVIII 278-290 

There  He  Winds  Her  —  Our  New  Cook  and  His  Reception — The 
Girls  of  Castine  — A  "  Post  "  that  Spoke  —  Off  for  the  Banks  — 
Good  Fishing  —  Something  of  an  Iceberg  —  A  Yankee  School- 
master Shoots  a  Whale  —  The  Dory  Fleets  —  Eight  Hundred 
Boats  at  Work  —  Lively  Times  on  the  Banks  —  After  a  Shark  — 
Loss  of  the  "  Widow  Wadman  "  —  Perils  of  the  Fishermen  — 
Pulling  for  Life  in  a  Dory  —  Saved  at  the  Last  Moment  —  Loaded 
with  Fish  and  Homeward  Bound. 

Chapter  XXIX 291-298 

The  "  Comet "  and  my  Prospects.  —  The  St.  Croix  River  —  A  High 
Tide  —  Lumber  Trade  —  Pleasant  Hours  —  Eastport  —  A  Christ- 
mas Pudding —  Necessity,  the  Mother  of  Invention,  called  to  our 
Aid  —  A  Large  Fleet  —  A  Winter  Storm  —  Fast  before  the  Gale 
we  Reach  Holmes'  Hole  —  Off  for  New  Haven — Our  Cargo 
Discharged  —  Boston  and  Home. 

Chapter  XXX 299-310 

A  Sea-sick  Company  on  Board  of  the  "  George  Shattuck  "  —  Laugh- 
able Scenes  —  The  Sailor's  Boarding  House  —  *'  Splitting  up  a 
Dictionary  "  —  Off  for  the  Banks,  on  the  "  Nason  "  —  An  Ocean 
Race  of  a  Thousand  Miles  —  Icebergs  —  Their  Noonday  Beauty 
—  Saved  by  a  Sharp  Lookout  —  John's  Thrilling  Experience  with 
a  Phantom  Brig  and  a  Spirit  Sailor  —  Where  Good  Fishing  is  to 
be  Found  —  Overboard  Again  —  Eleven  Hundred  Quintals  Down. 

Chapter  XXXI 311-319 

Working  and  Winning  —  The  "  Nason"  Flying  Home  —  Skippers 
on  their  Reckoning  —  The  Cape  in  View  —  In  Port  —  The  Men 
Paid  Off — Money  as  Free  as  Air  —  A  Sad  Warning  to  Rum 
Drinkers  —  Home  from  Sea  —  I  Ship  for  a  Southern  Trip  — 
Loosing  the  Frozen  Canvas  —  A  Tough  Gale  —  Our  Sails  Blown 
to  Ribbons  —  Intense  Cold  Weather  —  Twelve  Days  of  Suffering 
and  Danger —  We  Arrive  off  Charleston. 

Chapter  XXXII 320-329 

Passing  Fort  Sumter  —  Genuine  Ethiopian  Minstrels  —  Cape  Ann 
Boys  Near  By  —  Charleston  after  the   War — Off  Again  —  At 


Contents. 

Georgetown — Loading  Heavy  Above  and  Below  —  A  Bushel 
in  a  Peck  Measure  —  A  Thought  of  Danger  Ahead  —  Warnings 
—  The  Risk  Accepted  —  At  Sea  —  The  Pumps  going  Day  and 
Night  —  We  Arrive  near  Boston  —  Approach  of  a  Gale  —  The 
Midnight  Alarm  —  The  Canvas  Covered  with  Ice,  and  Flying 
Loose  —  Driven  to  Sea  Again  —  Desperate  Condition  —  Pumps 
Clogged  with  Tar  — Seven  Feet  of  Water  in  the  Hold  — All 
Hope  of  Saving  the  Vessel  Despaired  of. 

Chapter  XXXIII 330-339 

The  Vessel  Breaking  Up  —  We  Take  to  the  Boat  —  Engulfed  by 
Heavy  Seas  —  Presence  of  Mind  —  The  Floating  Lumber  —  Light- 
ening the  Boat  — The  Return  to  the  Wreck  — The  Boat  finally 
Lost  —  Ten  Feet  of  Deck  our  only  Hope  —  Eight  Days  and 
Nights  of  Terrible  Suffering — A  Despairing  Crew  —  Our  Foot- 
hold Giving  Way  —  Praying  Men  —  Provisions  Exhausted  —  We 
are  Crazed  for  Want  of  Food— A  Fearful  Thought  — The  Glad 
Cry  of  "^ail,  Ho  "  —  The  Men  wild  with  Joy  — We  are  Rescued 
by  the  "Peerless  "  and  "  Winter  Bird  "  —  Saved. 

Chapter  XXXIY 340-349 

A  Last  Look  at  the  "  Avondale  "  —  Another  Stiff  Breeze  —  Safe  and 
Snug  on  Board  the  "  Peerless  "  —  Extreme  Suffering  resulting  from 
our  Exposure  on  the  Wreck  —  At  Porto  Rico  —  A  Hard  Pull  — 
Cuba  —  The  Harbor  of  St.  Jago  —  Interview  with  the  American 
Consul  —  Queer  Treatment  —  I  am  to  Return  in  the  "  Dan 
Holmes  "  —  Making  Myself  Generally  Useful  —  Sugar  Loading  — 
A  New  Song  for  Every  Hogshead  —  The  Promenade. 

Chapter  XXXY 350-358 

Festival  Time  — A  Wealthy  Creole  —  Daily  Sights  in  St.  Jago  — 
Hospitality — A  Spanish  Bull  Fight  —  Our  Cargo  all  Aboard  — 
Outward  Bound  — The  "Dan  Holmes"  under  Full  Sail  — A 
Swift  Passage  and  a  Sure  One  —  Off  Jersey  City  —  In  Port  — 
Once  More  at  Home  —  A  Farewell  to  Sea  Life  —  Yankee  Ned's 
Last  Words  to  His  Shipmates. 


Un^txutUn$. 


I.   The  Vessel  Ashore,  and  surrounded  by  Sav- 
ages.         ........  TITLE 

II.   Camping  out  in  the  Desert.        ....  82 

III.  Talking  with  the  Soumaulies  at  Rashafoon.  88 

IV.  The  Approach  to  Mocolo 94 

V.    Hailing  the  Stars  and  Stripes  from  an  Arab 

Dow 108 

VI.   Donkey  Tricks  on  Sailors  at  Aden.        .       .  118 

VII.   Taking  down  the  Flag  in  Hampton  Roads.    .  224 

VIII.    The  Fishermen  among  the   Icebergs  on  the 

Grand  Banks 284 

IX.    Leaving  the  Wreck,  and  at  Sea  in  an  Open 

Boat. 332 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 


CHAPTER   I. 

My  Birth  —  Early  Longings  for  the  Sea  —  Warnings  Unheeded  — 
Boats  and  Books — Leaving  School — My  First  Voyage  —  On 
Board  — The  Cook  Reckons— Ship  Work  — The  Coast  of  the 
Eastern  States  —  Classes  of  Men  and  Occupation  —  Fishing  and 
Coasting  —  The  Sailors'  Mission  —  "Nothing  to  Laugh  at"  — 
Death  of  the  Steward — Home  Again —  Sea  Togs  Laid  Aside. 

I  \W  FI^ST  saw  the  light  of  day  as  I  was  tossed 
and  tumbled  in  the  nurse's  arms,  in  an  un- 
pretending edifice  situated  on  Winter  Street, 
Salem,  Massachusetts,  and  having  escaped  the  thou- 
sand ills  that  young  tuggers  encounter,  was  kept 
to  the  school-room,  and  other  similar  institutions  un- 
til my  soul  was  sick  of  books,  music,  and  dancing. 
I  saw  pleasure  only  in  ihe  water,  and  sketching  little 
pictures  of  vessels  in  various  positions.  Anything  in 
the  shape  of  a  boat  was  my  fond  delight. 

The  best  opportunities  for  mental  improvement 
were  thrown  away,  and  my  time  was  spent  in  making 
and  rigging  little  models,  and  learning  the  different 
rig  on  the  many  kinds  of  craft  that  lined  the  docks. 
1  learned  to  row  dories,  shift  sails,  scull  boats,  and 


•  •         •     .   •    •     •         • 


12  Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life^ 

expose  myself  to  all  sorts  of  dangers  at  an  early 
period. 

The  warnings  of  my  parents  were  unheeded,  and 
as  my  father  was  full  of  business,  he  could  spare  but 
little  time  to  look  after  the  roaming  propensities  of 
his  wayward  son.  The  ocean  was  the  only  path  to 
my  El  Dorado.  The  fair  lands  I  read  and  dreamed  of 
laid  beyond  the  broad  blue  belt  of  water,  and  at  last, 
at  fever  height,  visions  of  salt  water  charms  over- 
powered me. 

At  fifteen  we  are  headstrong,  and  know  too  much. 
The  dangers  of  the  ocean  may  be  pictured  to  us  in  all 
their  awful  majesty,  and  men  of  experience  who  have 
braved  the  blazing  sun  of  the  tropics,  and  the  towering 
masses  of  ice,  in  the  depths  of  an  Arctic  winter,  may 
recount  their  perils  and  the  dangers  they  have  met, 
and  yet  the  buoyant  young  mind  is  unsatisfied.  "  I 
must  see  these  things  myself;  why  cannot  I  undergo 
the  perils  that  others  have,"  are  the  delusive  thoughts 
that  plunge  too  many  young  men  into  a  life-long 
misery.  I  state  my  own  ideas  on  this  subject ;  no  one 
is  responsible  for  the  suiferings  of  those  who  scorn 
good  advice  and  thrust  their  heads  into  the  liou's 
jaws. 

I  left  school,  and  by  the  kindness  of  Captain  H , 

an  old  friend  of  the  family,  planted  my  chest  and 
myself  on  the  deck  of  the  "  Invincible,"  an  old-fash- 
ioned fore-and-after,  bound  on  a  lumber  and  coaling 
trip.  I  went  for  my  health,  and  to  gain  an  insight  into 
the  mysteries  of  sailor  life.  Good-byes  were  said,  the 
little  company  on  the  pier  saw  the  vessel  leave  the 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         13 

harbor  under  a  pile  of  canvas,  and  myself  busy  on  the 
quarter  catching  the  "  tinker  mackerel  "  that  rippled 
the  water  about  the  vessel.  The  day  was  lovely,  the 
wind  fair,  and  at  length  catching  the  smell  of  pork 
frying  out,  I  went  down  into  the  forecastle  used  for 
the  galley,  and  there  found  the  cook,  a  brawny,  car- 
rotty-headed  Yankee,  preparing  dinner.  How  my  ten- 
der sensibilities  were  touched  to  see  him  bake  bread, 
cook  meat,  and  squirt  tobacco  juice,  indulging  in  a 
tremendous  oath  if  everything  did  not  jibe  to  suit  him. 
I  soon  returned  to  the  deck,  and  saw  the  land  gliding 
away  astern.  Dimmer  was  quickly  dispatched,  the  men 
were  told  off  into  watches,  and  before  supper  time,  I 
began  to  feel  quite  easy.  The  cook  with  a  grin  said 
to  the  mate,  "  The  youngster  has  not  come  to  his 
milk  yet,  but  I  reckon  he  has  gingerbread  stowed 
in  his  chest  to  last  a  month,"  the  truth  of  which  reck- 
oning I  soon  disproved  by  telling  him  I  had  no  kind 
of  an  appetite,  whereupon  he  kindly  recommended  a 
pint  of  salt  water,  or  a  piece  of  pork  on  a  string. 

I  could  not  get  the  style  of  walking  a  crack,  when 
the  vessel  was  rolling  rail  under,  but  as  for  climbing  a 
spar  I  equalled  any  on  board,  having  practiced  the  art 
many  months  before  I  had  a  chance  to  go  to  sea.  I  was 
taught  to  steer,  reef,  and  make  myself  useful,  "  for 
the  sake  of  your  health  and  to  teach  you,"  was  the 
captain's  every-day  exclamation.  The  mate  filled  my 
head  and  hands  with  'prentice  sailor  work  ;  splicing, 
tying  knots,  and  bowlines,  turks-hcad,  double  and  sin- 
gle walls,  crowns,  Martha  and  other  Walker's  knots, 
turning  in  and  fid  ding  were  given  me  for  practice. 


14         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,   . 

The  coast  of  the  Eastern  States  is  for  the  most  part 
rocky  and  bold.  During  each  of  the  many  times  I 
have  run  in  from  sea,  I  knew  the  exact  locality  of 
the  vessel,  whether  off  the  sands  of  Cape  Cod,  the 
bold  shores  of  Maine  fringed  with  waving  pines,  the 
dark  grass-covered  headlands  of  Boston  Bay,  or  the 
low,  well-cultivated  shores  of  Connecticut,  the  gaping 
rents  in  Rhode  Island's  border,  or  the  sloping  islands 
in  Vineyard  Sound.  The  lights  of  many  colors 
were  stamped  upon  my  memory,  and  as  the  swift  ves- 
sel rushed  through  the  water,  and  I  stood  in  midnight 
solitude  at  the  wheel,  I  could  fasten  my  gaze  upon  the 
exact  spot,  where  home  and  friends  all  were,  and  be- 
came familiar  with  the  twinkling  lights  up  and  down 
the  coast.  How  often  I  have  thought,  as  my  eye 
watched  the  vessel's  head,  of  what  the  folks  might  be 
doing  at  home. 

And  here  was  I,  deep-loaded,  winged  out,  and  oft- 
times  flying  before  the  winter  blast,  about  a  cannon- 
shot  from  the  glowing  fire,  the  well-spread  table,  and 
the  pleasures  of  home.  This  trip  was  to  me  a  merry 
voyage.  We  could  read  and  sleep  on  deck,  and  every 
time  the  anchor  was  down,  and  the  cotton  furled,  we 
could  slip  into  the  boat  and  go  ashore.  There  arc 
many  classes  of  men  to  encounter  in  a  summer's 
trip  along  our  shores, —  the  heavy  ships,  the  coasters, 
carrying  all  kinds  of  merchandize,  from  the  little  teu- 
ton boat,  to  the  three-master,  the  pilot  boats  and  their 
noble,  brave  crews,  the  dashing  mackerel  "  killer," 
gentlemen's  yachts,  long  white  steamers  that  beat  the 
water  into  foam,  and  swiftly  bear  the  gay  or  sorrowing 


\  Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,         15 

passengers  to  their  respective  places ;  the  heavy,  well- 
maaned  "  banker,"  flying  colors  and  salt  wet;  the  rev- 
enu3  cutters,  trim  and  tant,  lying  ready  for  service ; 
the  huge  man-of-war,  as  she  glides  away  with  heavy 
sails  well-handled  by  a  disciplined  crew  ;  the  long 
black  propeller,  deep  with  freight,  and  the  market- 
boats  and  jiggers  bearing  their  burdens  to  please  the 
tastes  and  appetites  of  the  residents  of  the  great  cities. 
And  all  these  hundreds  of  craft  are  manned  by  men 
"  who  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships."  These  thousands 
of  men  peril  life  and  limb,  and  lead  the  hardest  life 
of  toil  and  privation,  working  day  and  night,  travers- 
ing the  ocean  to  make  the  landsmen  happy,  to  increase 
their  wealth  and  to  enable  them  to  luxuriate  in  the 
products  of  all  climes  and  people.  All  that  is  im- 
ported or  exported  passes  through  their  hands.  They 
brave  the  dangers  of  every  zone  for  scanty  pay,  and 
often  meagre  fare.  The  whale  is  pursued  to  regions 
of  eternal  snow  ;  the  isles  of  the  Indies  and  Polynesia 
bow  their  cocoa-covered  tops  in  obeisance  to  the  en- 
terprise of  Yankee  men.  The  continents  are  con- 
nected by  electric  wires,  the  products  of  every  country 
beneficial  to  mankind  are  rolled  up  to  our  shores  by 
sailor  hands.  And  when  the  nation's  life  is  at  stake, 
a  living  wall  of  Yankee  sailors  rises  like  a  mighty 
bulwark  against  a  foreign  foe.  At  sea  they  do  their 
duty,  and  on  shore  they  are  happy,  and  ready  for  any 
good  work  or  hazardous  undertaking.  All  honor  to 
the  generous,  noble  seamen,  whether  they  are  in  small 
or  large  vessels. 

A  month  had  passed  pleasantly.     The  lumber  was 


16         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.  - 

discharged  at  the  pier  in  Stonington,  after  whicli  we 
had  a  chance  to  look  around  us.  We  watched  with 
interest  the  huge  steamers  coming  and  going,  and  with 
wonder  the  engines,  whose  ponderous  workings  drove 
the  leviathans  along.  The  numerous  watermelons, 
the  baggage,  the  porters,  and  the  tugs  that  fl3w  up 
and  down  the  river,  were,  to  my  young  mind,  full  of 
interest. 

Near  the  "  Plymouth  Rock  "  lay  a  small  steamer 
whose  captain  and  crew  essayed  to  pull  up  the  steep 
gangway  plank  a  load  of  trunks  on  a  wheelbarrow. 
The  rope  was  bent  on,  the  captain  and  men  tugged 
the  heavy  pile  nearly  to  the  wharf,  a  negro  pushing 
behind  with  sweaty  brow,  and  all  his  power.  The 
hands  and  passengers  on  the  large  steamer  watched 
with  some  degree  of  merriment  this  novel  way  of  dis- 
charging the  luggage,  when,  as  their  most  sanguine 
hopes  were  about  to  be  realized,  the  slender  rope 
parted,  and  in  a  confused  mass  went  negro,  luggage, 
and  all.  The  captain  who  had  hold  of  the  end  of 
the  rope,  fell  under  the  shore  party,  and  as  the 
screams  of  wild  laughter  accompanied  the  accident, 
he  managed  to  rise  from  the  heap  of  tumbled-down 
men.  Holding  one  hand  on  his  injured  part,  he 
shook  the  other  at  the  passengers  and  shouted, — 
"Laugh  you  cusses,  laugh;  but  I  tell  you  it  ain't 
anything  to  laugh  at."  His  passion  cooled,  when  the 
men  passed  the  luggage  up  by  hand,  and  he  made  a 
promise  never  to  work  in  such  a  lazy  way  again. 

We  hauled  out  that  evening,  and  with  a  fair  wind 
and  clear  sky  ran  to  New  York,  passing  through  the 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor* s  Life,        17 

so-called  Hell  Gate,  and  anchored  off  the  Battery. 
After  lying  there  three  days,  we  sailed  down  the  Jer- 
sey shore,  and  entered  the  Delaware  Bay.  Taking 
advantage  of  the  tides,  we  soon  reached  Philadelphia, 
and  lay  off  the  pier  at  Richmond,  that  great  coal 
depot  of  Pennsylvania,  to  be  ready  at  a  moments 
notice  to  haul  in  and  receive  our  return  cargo. 

To  a  stranger  the  "  city  of  friends  "  is  a  deep  and 
interesting  study.  The  neat  squares  and  streets,  the 
water-works,  ferries,  the  shipphig,  markets,  and  coal 
wharves,  were  to  us  continual  sources  of  interest. 
Our  steward  here  went  off  on  a  spree,  and  on  his 
return,  I  saw  that  he  had  more  liquor  than  common- 
sense  aboard  his  craft.  I  advised  him  to  stay  on  the 
wharf  until  he  could  be  brought  to  the  vessel.  Yet 
he  heeded  not  my  words,  but  stepping  into  the  boat, 
lost  his  balance,  and  fell  headlong  into  the  river. 
There  were  many  people  on  the  wharf,  yet  he  sank  to 
the  bottom  so  suddenly  that  no  one  could  help  him. 

This  was  the  first  man  I  had  seen  drown,  and  the 
occurrence  made  more  of  an  impression  on  my  mind 
than  any  of  the  numerous  deaths  I  subsequently  wit- 
nessed. I  thought  of  his  aged  mother,  and  her  grief  to 
lose  her  only  boy,  and  firmly  determined  to  set  my 
face  against  liquor  and  the  rum  traffic  from  that  day 
on.  Rum  !  0,  horrid  curse  !  the  insinuating  Devil, 
that  drags  his  victim  surely  along  the  high  road  to 
destruction.  Even  should  the  palsied  hand  refuse  to 
take  the  cup,  and  the  bleared  eyes  see  no  more  the 
serpent-charm  at  the  bottom,  the  ruined  man  clings 
to  the  old  enemy,  until,  it  may  be,  a  flash  of  reason 
2 


18         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

expels  the  dark  viper  that  has  been  gnawing  at  his 
heart  for  months  and  years. 

Our  vessel  hauled  to  Pier  No.  14,  and  loaded,  the 
coal  coming  into  the  hold  a  car-load  at  a  dump.  Tlie 
half-naked  trimmers,  with  their  flat  "trimming 
boards,"  leveled  the  cargo,  the  decks  were  swept 
clean,  and  the  next  day  we  sailed  for  home.  Noth- 
ing of  interest  occurred.  The  fine  weather  wo  en- 
joyed ;  the  fair  wind  wafted  us  safely  over  the  shoals, 
the  run  was  a  good  one,  and  as  I  grasped  the  wheel 
and  shot  the  deep-loaded  craft  with  her  sails  down  to 
her  berth,  I  felt  in  better  health  and  strength  than 
ever  before,  and  vastly  improved  in  my  knowledge  of 
life  and  its  duties.  "  Home  again ;"  and  as  the  light 
wagon  rattled  over  the  pavements,  a  feeling  of  regret 
came  upon  me  at  the  thought  of  leaving  the  compan- 
ions of  my  three  months'  trip,  and  my  first  sea-life 
experience.  But  so  it  must  be,  and  reluctantly  lay- 
ing aside  my  sea  togs,  I  prepared  myself  to  engage  in 
new  scenes  of  life  on  shore. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,        19 


CHAPTER    II. 

At  a  Trade  —  "  He  will  never  make  a  Printer  "  —  Discontent  on 
Shore  —  Another  Voyage  in  View  —  My  Joy  at  its  Height  — 
Shipped  Again  —  The  "  Guide  "  and  her  Crew  —  Don't  be  so  fast, 
Ned  —  The  Landlord's  Attentions  —  Getting  under  Way — Off 
for  Zanzibar —  Farewell,  Yankee-Land  —  In  the  Gulf —  Sea-Sick, 
but  not  sick  of  the  Sea  —  A  Squall  —  Land,  Ho  —  The  Catama- 
ran—  Crossing  the  Line  —  Rough  Usage  —  Baptized  in  a  Tub 
and  made  a  son  of  Neptune  —  I  can't  see  it  —  The  "  Line  "  seen 
through  a  Spy  Glass  —  The  "  Great  Republic  "  right  ahead.  Sir  — 
Off  the  Cape  —  The  Albatross  and  Cold  Weather  —  The  Cape 
safely  doubled. 

'^^^ 

HE  cold  weather  was  fast  approaching,  and 
^[  my  parents  wisely  kept  me  from  school,  and 
^k  r  sent  me  to  learn  the  art  of  printing.  I  soon 
became  disgusted  with  composing,  distributing,  and 
working  the  hand  press.  The  foreman  noticed  my 
uneasiness.  The  work  was  at  best  irksome  to  me, 
and  at  last  the  old  gentleman  was  informed,  "  Ned 
will  never  make  a  printer."  I  was  quick  fingered, 
quick  of  eye,  and  could  pick  up  type  fast  enough, 
but,  as  they  all  said,  I  would  never  make  a  printer. 

They  next  procured  for  me  a  good  situation  in  a 
store.  This  was  better,  for  I  learned  to  trade  in  many 
things  and  made  many  young  friends.     But  as  Capt. 

H ,  spent  a  day  with  our  family,  I  overheard  him 

remark,  that  the  "  Guide"  was  soon  to  be  off  for  Zan- 
zibar, having  most  of  the  cargo  on  board  and  crew 
shipped.     This  was  my  chance.     Here  I  found  my 


20         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

long  sought  for  opportunity  to  take  a  voyage  to  the 
shores  of  Africa.  I  therefore  quickly  obtained  the 
situation  of  cabin  boy  and  steward,  and  as  the  cook 
was  an  old  friend  of  mine,  I  knew  I  should  succeed 
in  my  vocation.  I  cared  not  for  wages  ;  I  had  every- 
thing a  young  sailor  could  wish  for,  and  this  is  a 
great  fault, —  carrying  too  many  garments  and  too 
much  luggage,  when  one  half  of  the  quantity  is  far 
preferable. 

I  had  a  view  of  the  barque  before  I  signed  articles, 
and  found  her  a  fine-looking  craft  in  every  respect. 
None  of  the  crew  were  on  board,  for  they  had  no  idea 
of  leaving  the  shore  until  the  last  moment.  I  spent 
the  afternoon  at  Griffin's,  with  my  shipmates  soon  to 
be.  Tliey  were  dressed  with  care,  their  hair  shining 
with  oil,  or  tucked  neatly  under  their  glazed  caps. 
All  were  sober  and  looking  finely.  How  many  of 
that  band  of  fine  young  men  ever  stood  again  under 
that  awning,  or  lounged  on  the  blue-painted  sea 
chests  ?  Did  ever  one  receive  a  shake  of  the  hand,  a 
farewell  kiss,  or  a  lump  of  the  best  tobacco  from  that 
sidewalk  again  ?  I  longed  to  be  off.  They  longed  to 
stay,  and  loaf  it  out  a  few  days  longer. 

"  Don't  you  be  so  fast  to  leave  home,  Ned.  You 
will  be  a  darned  sight  faster  to  get  back  to  it  again.' ' 

"  Yes,"  said  another,  as  he  took  the  fragrant  cigar 
from  his  mouth,  "  She  is  a  gay  boat  and  hunkey  in 
every  strand,  but  there  is  no  place  like  home,  if  it  is 
a  shell-back's  lodging  house.     Hey,  Eb  ? " 

They  agreed  to  be  on  hand  at  daylight,  and  then 
paired  off  to  have  their  last  night  on  shore. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,         21 

The  landlord  packed  their  kits,  slipping  little  com- 
forts in  the  corners,  in  the  shape  of  slender  jugs  of 
whiskey,  pounds  of  the  weed  of  James'  River,  and 
charging  a  round  price  for  all  these  little  favors.  I 
walked  the  street  till  the  bell  struck  nine,  and  then 
retired  to  my  room  to  meditate  and  rest.  My  parents 
and  friends  in  the  next  city  I  had  some  thought  of, 
but  what  engrossed  my  direct  attention  was,  the  com- 
hig  voyage.  Would  I  not  be  smart  and  willing,  and 
win  my  way  up  to  maritime  favor  ?  I  had  the  lesson 
by  heart,  of  civility  to  all ;  kindness,  daring  and 
cheerfulness  were  also  essential. 

At  the  break  of  day  I  stood  on  the  walk,  and  found 
half  of  the  crew  assembled.  We  had  a  rousing  good 
breakfast,  and  then  started  under  the  guidance  of  the 
mate  to  drum  up  the  more  backward  ones.  They 
were  soon  called  together,  but  would  run  into  every 
friend's  house  and  get  their  farewell  tod  of  whiskey 
as  they  went  along.  The  morning  was  cold  and  clear, 
and  by  the  time  the  crew  had  turned  the  head  of  the 
wharf,  many  of  them  were  full  of  liquor.  Their  sweet- 
hearts and  friends  gave  them  a  hearty  hug  as  they 
stepped  into  the  boats,  and  then  they  laid  to  the  oars 
with  a  will,  and  were  soon  at  the  side  of  the  barque  that 
lay  at  anchor  in  the  stream.  The  men's  chests  were 
on  the  deck,  and  were  quickly  transferred  to  the  fore- 
castle. Off  came  jackets  and  extra  clothing,  and  the 
crew  jumped  to  their  duties.  It  made  me  stare,  to 
see  those  same  young  men  who  reeled  down  the  wharf 
wild  with  liquor,  spring  into  the  rigging  and  run  up 
with  the  agility  of  cats,  lay  out  on  the  tapering  yards 


22         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.  , 

and  loosen  the  topsails,  knowing  exactly  when  and 
what  to  do,  and  civil  to  the  officers.  At  the  word, 
the  canvas  hung  in  wavy  folds,  and  the  gear  was  weU 
overhauled.  Down  the  rigging  they  leaped,  and  to  the 
windlass  brakes.  Then  as  they  felt  the  old  emotion, 
that  they  were  at  every  stroke  of  the  brakes  slowly 
parting  their  last  hold  on  Yankee  land,  they  broke 
forth  in  a  chanting  that  made  the  sleepy  crews  of  the 
numberless  coasters  turn  out  in  quick  time.  *'0, 
Biley,  O,"  '*  Whiskey  for  my  Johnny,"  and  the  loud 
toned  "  Storm  along,  my  Rosa,"  woke  the  echoes  far 
and  near.  The  rising  sun  seemed  glad  at  the  lively 
scene.  The  anchor  was  drawn  from  its  oozy  bed ; 
the  topsails  sheeted  home,  and  away  went  the 
"  Guide,"  the  last  tie  severed,  and  moving  like  an 
all^tross  over  the  ruiBed  water.  Light  sail  were 
loosed  and  set,  and  as  the  freshening  breeze  drove  us 
down  the  harbor  at  a  flying  rate,  the  hills  covered 
with  a  coat  of  emerald  green,  were  fast  passing  from 
our  sight,  perhaps  forever.  The  cool  April  wind 
fanned  our  heated  faces  as  we  cast  a  long,  lingering 
look  upon  the  land  of  home,  friends,  liberty  and 
equality.  -  Too  well  we  now  realized  that  an  eventful 
voyage  had  began. 

On,  like  a  racer  dashed  the  clipper,  the  sand  hills 
of  Cape  Cod  being  on  our  weather-quarter  at  set  of 
sun.  It  was  here  we  took  a  point  of  departure.  The 
Kor'- Wester  held  good  in  our  favor,  and  in  tlu-ee 
days'  time  from  leaving  home  we  had  crossed  the 
"  gulf."  Here  we  had  a  touch  of  rough  weather,  but 
we  passed  safely  through.    I  was  down  with  sea-sick- 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         23 

ness,  and  the  officers,  at  my  own  desire,  allowed  me 
iny  own  way.  I  knew  if  I  gave  up  I  should  feel  worse 
for  so  doing,  and  when  my  head  sank  on  my  breast,  I 
staggered  up  and  down  the  drenched  deck,  until  I 
felt  better.    "  Never  say  die,"  said  the  mate,  cheerily. 

"  Hang  to  her,  my  bold  townie,"  said  the  men,  and 
after  a  few  days  I  could  walk  a  crack  on  deck,  no 
matter  how  hard  the  vessel  pitched  and  rolled.  I 
conquered  the  sickness  forever.  Three  days  of  reef- 
ing and  banging  about  the  "  gulf,"  was  a  sufficiency. 
I  was  heartily  pleased  when  the  gale  abated  and  the 
glorious  sun  poured  his  refulgent  rays  over  the  storm- 
lashed  sea.  We  saw  no  friendly  sail  to  cheer  our 
vision.  The  gulf  weed  lay  on  the  water  in  yellowish 
brown  masses.  The  weather  was  lovely,  the  wind 
light  and  baffling,  and  the  clear  blue  ocean  could  be 
gazed  into,  fathoms  below  the  surface.  The  first  little 
world  that  came  wafting  along  over  the  limped  sea, 
was  the  barque  "  Ionia,"  of  Boston,  bound  in,  from 
the  West  Coast  of  Africa.  Greetings  were  exchanged 
and  papers  put  aboard.  She  soon  passed  from  our 
view,  and  again  we  ploughed  the  trackless  sea,  under 
a  clear,  warm  sky. 

We  were  now  in  the  track  of  homeward  bound  ves- 
sels from  the  West  Indies,  and  many  an  English  ves- 
sel we  spoke,  as  the  heavy  craft  lumbered  along  under 
all  the  sail  it  could  spread,  with  its  rich  cargo  of  su- 
gar, molasses,  dyewoods,  and  other  productions  of  the 
tropics.  How  pleasant  it  is  to  the  sailor  to  meet  these 
passing  sails,  as  they  move  hke  things  of  life  along 
the  trackless  path,  the  unerring  compass  guiding 
them  safely  on  their  way. 


24         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

The  weather  was  very  warm.  The  sun's  rays  beat 
in  fiery  strength  on  our  parched  decks,  —  a  number  of 
the  men  keeping  them  wet  down.  Every  shaded  place 
was  eagerly  sought.  The  tar  dropped  from  the  rigging ; 
the  paint  blistered  everywhere.  Every  piece  of  brass 
was  so  heated  that  it  burned  the  naked  hand.  Every 
one  was  clothed  in  the  thinnest  garments  he  could 
muster.  Even  the  tough  and  active  bull-dog  was 
content  to  lie  still  then.  The  cook  jumped  into  one 
door  of  his  galley,  looked  at  the  dinner  cooking,  and 
jumped  througKthe  other  open  door.  Hot!  well,  we 
thought  it  was. 

All  kinds  of  tropic  fish  were  plenty.  The  men 
lounged  in  the  shade  of  the  forward  sails,  and  grained 
the  dolphin  and  bonitas.  Vast  schools  of  flying  fish 
rose  from  the  water,  and  as  the  hot  sun  dried  their 
wings,  they  fell  into  the  jaws  of  the  hungry  dolphins 
that  followed  them  like  flashes  of  light,  or  the  watch- 
ful sea-bird  pounced  upon  them  from  mid-air,  and  bore 
his  prize  away,  glittering  like  silver  in  the  clear,  hot 
au". 

At  night  the  starry  firmament  revealed  to  us  the 
beautiful  "  Southern  Cross,"  and  an  occasional  red 
meteor  speeding  on  its  unknown  path.  The  wake  of 
the  vessel  was  like  a  track  of  white  fire,  as  it  gleamed 
in  the  dark  star-lit  sea.  The  binnacle  light  revealed 
the  trusty  man  at  the  wheel,  as  he  guided  the  huge  fab- 
ric through  the  wide-swelling  waters.  On  some  nights 
there  was  a  dash  of  rain,  and  all  hands  were  turned 
out  in  quick  time  to  stand  by  for  squalls.  Finally  a 
severe  one  burst  iu  a  fitful  gust  upon  us ;  the  wet, 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.         25 

heavy  sails  were  clewed  up  safe  and  snug ;  the  barque 
rushed  on  like  a  mad  whale,  while  the  fury  of  the 
squall  lasted,  and  when  it  had  passed  over,  was  left 
courtesying  and  rolling  in  the  wake  of  the  elements. 

The  island  of  Fernando  de  Norona  was  sighted,  and 
one  of  the  crew  swore  that  a  "  Catamaran,"  or  native 
boat  was  pulling  off  to  us ;  but  as  the  glass  of  the 
officer  could  not  discover  the  boat,  it  was  regarded  as 
a  hoax.  The  crew  were  up  to  some  kind  of  fun  :  I 
knew  it  by  the  way  they  manoeuvred,  and  on  the 
Fourth  of  July,  a  hoarse  voice  under  the  bow  sud- 
denly cried  out : 

"  Have  you  got  any  of  my  children  aboard  this 
boat?" 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  was  responded  from  the  fore-top; 
and  at  that  moment  a  huge  monster,  clad  like  Old  Nep, 
appeared  over  the  knight  heads.  All  the  uninitiated 
tried  to  run  away  from  the  crew  that  had  prepared  to 
see  the  fun.  Strong  arms  brought  the  green  ones, 
myself  in  the  number,  to  the  forward  deck.  Large 
tubs  of  water  just  drawn  from  the  ocean  stood  near  by. 
I  saw  all  the  paraphanalia  of  Father  Neptune  with 
some  misgivings,  and  meekly  resigned  myself  to  his 
hands.  I  was  told  to  answer  the  questions  he  might 
put  to  me,  and  after  being  shaved  with  a  rusty  hoop, 
and  made  to  swallow  a  quart  of  salt  water,  which  they 
poured  down  the  speaking  trumpet,  they  let  me  go  — 
first  baptizing  me  in  one  of  the  tubs  of  water  —  and 
with  a  slap  between  the  shoulders  that  nearly  made 
me  lose  my  breath,  proclaimed  me  a  "  Son  of  Nep- 
tune."   The  other  young  men  were  put  tlirough  the 


26         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

ordeal  in  a  manner  that  went  against  their -grain. 
They  struggled,  kicked  and  swore  to  no  purpose. 
Young  Smith  narrowly  escaped  strangulation,  and 
Welch,  of  the  port  watch,  was  lowered  over  the  ves- 
sel's side.  My  fears  were  aroused  for  his  safety,  but 
he  was  soon  drawn  aboard,  alive  and  well,  and  strong 
enough  to  tear  the  venerable  Neptune's  head-gear 
from  him  when  released,  which  he  did,  with  a  con- 
siderable degree  of  satisfaction. 

We  were  then  allowed  to  see  the  line,  and  of  course 
soon  exclaimed, "  We  can't  see  it."  At  this  the  kind- 
hearted  mate  handed  us  the  spy-glass,  and  to  our  aston- 
ishment we  saw  the  line.  It  was  a  hair  drawn  across 
the  lens  of  the  glass.  We  were  all  satisfied,  and  the 
captain  spliced  the  main  brace.  I  was  laughed  at  for 
not  drinking  on  the  "  Glorious  Fourth,"  but  I  re- 
membered my  pledge,  and  kept  it.  We  now  had  the 
"  Trades,"  and  bowled  it  off  in  fine  style  direct  for 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  The  ship  "  Great  Republic  " 
came  sweeping  toward  us  under  a  pile  of  canvas.  How 
noble  that  stately  ship  appeared,  dancing  over  the 
sparkling  sea.  The  four  masts  seemed  a  curious  rig 
to  me,  and  I  lost  no  time  in  making  a  sketch  of  her 
as  she  passed  across  our  bows. 

We  saw  no  more  vessels  until  we  neared  the  Cape, 
where  we  sighted  a  whaler  far  to  leeward,  jogging 
along  under  reefed  topsails.  The  days  had  grown  ex- 
tremely short.  Lamps  were  lighted  and  supper  eaten 
at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  All  unnecessary 
work  was  suspended,  and  the  men  were  glad  of  the  op- 
portunity to  sit  around  and  spin  yarns,  keep  comfort- 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.         27 

able,  and  only  work  the  sails.  The  best  of  hot  food, 
chocolate  and  coffee,  were  served  out  in  our  rations, 
and  we  took  solid  comfort  as  we  doubled  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope.  The  month  of  August  is  very  cool  in 
these  low  latitudes,  and  pea-jackets,  thick  boots  and 
mittens  come  into  use. 

The  mighty  Albatross  wheeled  in  circles  in  mid-air, 
or  darted  like  the  rush  of  a  cannon  ball  to  the  water 
when  they  caught  sight  of  a  morsel  of  waste  food  float- 
ing in  the  angry  wake  of  the  barque.  The  pretty 
Cape  pigeons  fluttered  around  the  hull.  The  goney 
and  booby  perched  on  the  bare  upper  spars.  Plenty 
of  porpoises  darted  under  the  sharp  cutwater,  or  were 
brought,  flapping,  to  the  deck,  with  the  firm  bowline 
clasping  their  tails.  Two  of  the  albatross  were  taken 
with  a  long  line  and  hook.  One  bird  measured  thir- 
teen feet  from  tip  to  tip  of  his  wings.  The  smaller 
bird  measured  eleven  feet.  These  noble  birds  were 
soon  despatched,  the  bull-dog  having  a  terrible  fight 
with  the  larger  one,  before  his  proud  head  sank  to 
the  deck.  Many  '-'-  curioes,"  were  made  from  these 
birds,  and  the  great  unsightly  carcasses  thrown  over- 
board. At  length  the  captain  gave  the  order  to 
*'  fall  ofi*  a  couple  of  points."  We  had  safely  doubled 
the  Cape, 


28         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 


CHAPTER    III. 

Mozambique  Channel  —  Hove  to — The  Signal  —  The  Pilot  on 
Board  —  A  Joke  that  was  not  a  Joke  —  Unloading  —  A  Yankee 
Among  the  Sharks  —  A  Mutiny  Planned  —  "  Forewarned  is 
Forearmed — Watching  for  the  First  Move — The  Attempt  at 
Midnight  — The  Struggle  —  The  Arrest— All  Right  Again  — A 
Jaunt  on  Shore  —  The  Jetty  —  Mozambique  and  its  People  —  Co- 
coa Nut  and  Palm  Trees  —  Ready  for  a  Start. 


WEEK  after  we  had  passed  the  Cape  we 
were  in  pleasant  weather.  Cold  would  not 
be  likely  to  trouble  us  again.  Soon  we  en- 
tered the  Mozambique  Channel,  that  broad  and  beau- 
tiful strait,  lying  between  the  island  of  Madagascar 
and  the  main  land.  The  waters  of  this  channel  fifty 
years  ago  swarmed  with  slavers  and  petty  pirates  ;  the 
salubrious  climate,  charming  locality,  and  the  constant 
passing  of  richly  laden  homeward  bound  vessels, 
together  with  the  plenty  of  the  shore  and  the  inno- 
cence of  the  islanders,  rendering  it  their  most  fruitful 
field  of  operation.  How  many  bold  crews  have  ended 
their  career  of  crime  within  sight  of  these  shores, 
history  alone  can  tell.  Now,  the  swift  keels  of  the 
merchantmen  and  the  trader  alone  disturb  its  beau- 
tiful surface. 

As  we  drew  near  the  coasf  of  Mozambique,  the  high, 
level  table-land,  covered  with  perpetual  verdure,  was 
presented  to  our  view.  How  pleasant  it  was  to  see 
the  glorious  sun  settle  down  behind  the  long  chain  of 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,         29 

highlands  that  marked  the  coast.  Immense  groves 
of  cocoa-nut  trees  lined  the  shores.  The  white  sandy- 
beach  stretched  far  away,  until  our  eyes  looked 
upon  the  tapering  and  shining  point,  a  glad  sight  to 
us,  after  gazing  at  sea  and  sky  alone  for  four  long 
months.  Night  settled  over  the  land  ;  the  light  sails 
were  furled,  the  topsails  laid  to  the  mast,  and  we 
"  hove  to  "  until  daylight.  At  the  first  blush  of  dawn 
we  squared  away,  availing  ourselves  of  the  early  land 
breeze,  and  ran  for  the  port.  The  ensign  and  burgee 
were  set.  The  watchful  sentinels  who  had  their  eyes 
on  us  for  a  long  time,  were  with  columns  of  smoke 
telegraphing  our  arrival  to  the  consignees.  A  clum- 
sy boat  pulled  by  twenty  naked  blacks,  with  much 
clamor,  approached  us.  The  old  pilot,  clad  in  colored 
rags,  shouted  and  yelled  his  commands  to  his  ebony 
crew,  beating  them  with  a  heavy  stick  to  make  them 
obey.  The  pilot  fastened  to  us,  and  mounted  the  side 
ladder.  Our  bull-dog  who  had  been  running  about 
the  deck  seeking  for  something  to  whet  his  large  teeth 
upon,  made  a  sudden  dart  at  the  black  legs  of  the 
native,  who  frantically  jumped  to  the  Captain's  side, 
yelling  in  all  the  wild  gibberish  he  could  muster,  his 
face  of  a  pale  blue  color,  with  fear.  The  Captain  sent 
the  cause  of  his  trouble  away,  but  not  before  the 
heavy  jaws  of  the  dog  had  secured  the  remnant  of 
colored  rag  that  adorned  his  waist.  Poor  pilot,  he 
was  so  frightened  that  he  could  not  give  proper 
orders,  and  if  he  had,  we  could  not  have  made  out 
what  he  said. 
The  Captain  knew  his  duty,  and  as  he  tramped  the 


30         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

top  of  the  house,  cigar  in  mouth,  gave  prompt  and 
well-obeyed  orders.  Everything  was  ready  to  come 
to  anchor.  "  Clew  up,"  "  settle  away,"  and  other 
commands  were  no  sooner  spoken  than  obeyed.  The 
proud  little  barque  rushed  by  the  fort,  glided  to  her 
anchorage  in  good  style,  and  we  were  soon  lying  off 
the  "jetty."  The  Custom-house  officers,  clad  in  blue, 
their  coats  adorned  with  gilt  buttons  and  epaulets, 
came  up  the  ladder,  twirling  their  black  mustaches, 
and  suavily  smiling  to  the  Captain. 

The  day  after  we  arrived  the  hatches  were  opened, 
and  by  the  aid  of  a  motley  gang,  the  cargo  began  to 
tumble  over  the  sides  of  the  vessel.  The  only  attire 
of  the  natives  consisted  of  a  small  piece  of  cloth 
wound  about  the  waist.  They  worked  very  well,  re- 
ceiving as  pay  for  their  day's  labor  a  number  of  hard 
biscuits,  or  an  order  for  food  on  shore.  Many  of  them 
had  their  teeth  filed  to  a  point,  and  chewed  betel-nuts 
and  limes.  Some  were  splendidly  formed,  young  and 
healthy ;  others  were  old  and  withered.  A  piece  of 
tobacco  was  a  great  luxury  to  them.  I  had  brought  a 
box  containing  twenty  pounds,  as  a  venture  of  my  own, 
and  was,  consequently,  ready  for  a  trade.  For  a  sin- 
gle plug  I  purchased  a  barrel  of  fruit  of  various  Jiinds, 
but  was  wisely  cautioned  against  eating  too  much,  a 
piece  of  advice  which,  fortunately,  I  had  common- 
sense  enough  to  heed. 

The  harbor  was  full  of  sharks,  and  all  the  natives 
feared  the  grip  of  the  rapacious  monsters  that  were 
ready  to  seize  anything  eatable  that  fell  into  the  water. 
The  cook  and  myself  had  fine  sport  spearing  those 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailors  Life.         31 

that  rose  to  the  surface,  in  search  for  such  offal  as 
was  thrown  over.  A  boat  of  ours  having  in  some 
way  broken  adrift,  one  of  our  crew,  scorning  the  fear 
of  sharks,  and  full  of  poor  whiskey,  lowered  himself 
quietly  into  the  water,  and  swam  after  and  regained  it, 
bringing  it  safely  back  to  its  position.  This  daring 
act  filled  the  natives  with  surprise,  and  they  became 
more  convinced  than  ever  that  Yankees  would  dare 
anything  and  everything.  Our  crew  were  too  well 
treated  in  some  respects  ;  if  they  had  had  less  leisure 
it  would  have  been  better  for  them  and  all  concerned. 
One  day  we  received  a  quantity  of  specie  ;  hundreds  of 
hard  silver  dollars  snugly  packed  in  stout  boxes,  and 
three  sealed  bags  of  gold.  This  specie  we  were  to 
take  to  Aden,  and  either  deposit  it,  or  with  it  buy  a 
return  cargo  of  dates,  spices,  wool,  ebony,  ivory,  and 
hides.  Some  of  our  men  began  to  act  strangely.  I 
knew  them  all  by  heart  except  two,  "  Boston  "  and 
"  Jake,"  and  felt  quite  sure  that  trouble  was  brewing. 
The  men  had  plenty  of  liquor  procured  from  shore, 
and  the  native  rum  was  enough  to  make  any  man  a 
fiend,  being  fermented  from  the  juice  of  the  cocoa-nut, 
and  as  mucli  worse  than  Mexican  liquor  or  China 
"  samsho,"  as  those  vile  drinks  are  worse  than  our 
pure  native  wines. 

Our  cargo  was  yet  three  fourths  in  the  hold.  We 
had  taken  out  all  that  was  destined  for  this  port,  and 
had  stowed  away  four  hundred  sticks  of  ebony  wood. 
What  a  splendid  chance  for  those  men  to  take 
the  barque,  being  well  provisioned,  with  cargo,  specie, 
and  small  arms,  and  turn  it  into  a  pirate.     The  long 


32         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

gun  on  deck  would  do  good  execution,  and  they 
knew  the  barque  to  be  a  model  vessel,  swift,  sure,  and 
strong. 

As  I  carelessly  leaned  against  the  forward  house,  I 
over-heard  the  words  that  came  from  the  tipsy  men's 
lips :  —  "  Mutus  dedit  no  men  cosis  —  Muerto  del 
norte,"  was  the  game  they  had  chalked  out  on  their 
sea  chests.  I  was  responsible  for  any  misconduct 
that  should  occur,  for  the  Captain  was  ashore,  the 
mates  were  unconcerned,  or  knew  nothing  of  the  im- 
pending danger.  Bridges,  Pratt,  and  Smith  were 
ashore  with  the  Captain.  I  told  the  cook  of  what  I  had 
overheard,  and  as  he  drew  his  hand  over  his  eyes,  he 
said :  "  Ned,  we  have  summered  and  wintered  with 
those  men,  we  have  been  schoolmates  with  some,  and 
I  feel  bound  to  them  in  many  respects,  but  they  are 
full  of  fire  to-night ;  they  have  knocked  off  duty  be- 
cause they  did  not  get  their  roast  chicken  at  ten 
o'clock ;  you  know  full  well  the  cabin  did  not  have 
them,  —  and  with  yams,  coffee,  bread  and  pork,  they 
are  not,  but  ought  to  be,  satisfied.  'T  is  the  liquor, 
and  bad  luck  to  the  one  that  goes  abaft  the  mast  to- 
night." 

I  returned  to  the  cabin  and  had  all  the  weapons 
ready  for  use  at  a  moment's  warning,  then  leaned  on 
the  cabin  stairs,  revolver  in  hand,  watching  the  fore- 
castle door.  The  damp  niglit-dew  fell  on  the  moon- 
lit deck.  It  was  as  calm  as  death  all  about  the 
barque.  The  sickly  lights  in  the  houses  on  shore 
cast  their  feeble  rays  on  the  placid  waters.  The  tiny 
clock  in  the  cabin  told  the  hour  of  midnight.     I  was 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.         33 

about  to  retire  to  my  berth,  and  laugh  at  my  fears, 
when  a  thought  of  danger  kept  me  still  on  the  watch. 
Half  an  hour  more  had  slipped  away.  Then  one  form 
came  creeping  cautiously  from  the  dark  forecastle. 
Soon  another  followed.  At  length,  four  men  were 
there.  The  other  three,  I  concluded,  were  too  drunk 
to  do  any  harm.  Slowly  they  staggered  along  under 
the  shadow  of  the  rail  and  rigging,  all  in  a  line,  as 
noiselessly  as  they  could.  They  were  the  very  four 
men  I  knew  would  dare  to  do  anything  when  drunk. 
They  reached  the  main  mast,  and  stood  only  about  fif- 
teen feet  from  me.  What  was  to  be  done  by  me 
must  be  done  quickly  ;  I  jumped  and  covered  my  man, 
and  as  the  little  seven-shooter  stared  the  foremost  one 
in  the  eye,  with  my  finger  on  the  trigger,  nervous 
yet  calm,  I  cried  out,  "  The  first  man  that  steps  over 
the  hatch  is  a  corpse.  Do  it  if  you  dare  ;  you  are 
dead  men  if  you  advance." 

"  That 's  so,  I  'm  here,"  said  the  cook,  as  he  ap- 
peared on  the  deck,  with  his  muscular  arms  bared  to 
the  shoulder,  and  a  sharp  knife  in  his  hand. 

"  And  I  am  here,  too,  my  bold  pups,"  echoed  the 
mate,  cigar  in  mouth,  as  he  confronted  the  terror- 
stricken  men.  "Ah,  you  rascals,  you  are  used  too 
well ;  we  '11  fix  you  as  you  deserve  in  the  morning." 

The  dip  of  oars  moved  by  quick  and  willing  hands, 
shot  the  light  gig  over  the  water,  and  in  a  moment 
the  Captain  mounted  the  side.  Like  whipped  curs, 
the  mutineers  slunk  away  to  their  berths,  and  the 
mate  then  grasped  my  hand  saying,  "  Ned,  you  are  a 
brick  ;  you  did  just  right.  We  can't  praise  you  too 
3 


34         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailot^s  Life, 

much.  They  tried  to  cut  up  some  pranks,  but  we 
nipped  their  plans  in  the  bud." 

The  cook  stepped  forward  and  gave  his  testimony. 
"  Yes,  cuss  the  thieves,  they  have  been  drunk  these 
three  days,  and  growled  because  they  did  not  get 
their  fried  chicken  for  breakfast." 

*'  Chickens  be  bio  wed,"  cried  the  Captain,  "  I'll  give 
them  Portuguese  chickens  to-morrow,"  and  with  this 
remark  he  left  the  deck  in  charge  of  the  mate,  who, 
lighting  a  fresh  cigar,  made  himself  comfortable  un- 
der the  awning,  and  talked  long  and  earnestly  with 
the  cook  about  the  men,  and  the  gay  old  times  about 
home. 

This  was  one  of  the  many  night  adventures  I  have 
experienced,  and  always  found  that  to  be  fore-warn- 
ed, was  to  be  fore-armed.  In  the  morning  when  I 
called  the  Captain  to  breakfast,  he  gleaned  all  the  par- 
ticulars from  me  ;  then  ate  his  meal  in  a  hurry,  and 
went  on  deck.  Unrolling  a  bundle  of  flags,  he  picked 
out  the  proper  ones,  and  with  them  signalized  the  man- 
of-war  that  lay  at  anchor  in  the  harbor.  A  govern- 
ment launch,  manned  by  twenty  men,  quickly  headed 
towards  us  and  was  soon  alongside.  With  much  noise 
and  display  of  their  muskets  and  cutlasses  the  men 
ran  up  the  side  ladder,  and  stood  upon  the  deck, 
looking  arouiid  for  an  enemy,  and  spoiling  for  a  fight. 
A  conversation  ensued  between  the  Captain  and  the 
officer  of  the  boat,  during  which  the  particulars  were 
stated,  and  it  was  determined  to  arrest  the  culprits 
and  convey  them  for  safe  keeping  to  the  man-of-war. 
Immediately  the  officer  spoke  to  his  men,  who  quickly 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.        35 

produced  the  iron  bracelets  and  started  to  put  tliem  on 
our  four  men,  who  stood  together  near  the  forecastle 
door.  The  Portuguese  laid  down  their  weapons,  and 
collared  the  four  half  drunken  men.  The  thought 
that  they  were  being  dragged  away  from  their  ship  by 
Portuguese  hands,  suddenly  flashed  upon  their  mud- 
dled brains.  They  threw  their  sturdy  arms  in  the 
air,  and  the  captors  were  quickly  hurled  to  the  deck. 
With  wild  shouts  they  sprang  into  the  crowd  of  Por- 
tuguese, and  like  a  water-spout,  the  four  desperate  men 
moved  among  the  swarthy  crew.  The  cowardly  Por- 
tuguese presented  their  muskets  at  our  men's  heads, 
and  in  this  persuasive  style  brought  them  to  terms. 
They  then  quietly  went  to  the  boat,  were  conveyed  to 
the  frigate,  and  put  in  confinement. 

We  lay  in  the  harbor  four  days  longer,  during 
which  I  had  plenty  of  time  to  see  the  place.  It  is  a 
homely  town  at  best,  wholly  under  the  control  of  Por- 
tuguese, who  wink  at  all  sorts  of  crime,  so  long  as  a 
doubloon  can  be  made  by  the  operation.  The  sharp 
hulls  of  slavers  can  liide  in  the  dense  woods,  and  the 
smugglers  pay  their  way  in  silence,  unmolested  by 
any  local  authorities.  The  country  natives,  as  a  class, 
barely  subsist  on  rice,  fruit,  and  barley.  Were  it  not 
for  the  fear  of  cruisers,  the  port  of  Mozambique  could 
ship  thousands  of  slaves.  Yankees  senff  sugar,  cloth, 
flour,  and  rum,  and  barter  these  for  ebony,  ivory, 
mats,  precious  ores,  and  dye-woods.  The  fort  at  the 
entrance  of  the  harbor  is  a  miserable  contrivance.  A 
handful  of  determined  men  could  walk  straight 
through  it.     Many  old  hulks  lay  in  the  harbor,  the 


36         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

Portuguese  flag  flying  from  staffs  at  their  sterns.  The 
soldiers  at  the  corners  of  the  streets  appeared  too 
weak  to  hold  their  muskets.  The  large  buildings  are 
the  Governor's  house,  the  Consul's  residence,  and 
the  Public  Store  Houses.  All  the  other  buildings 
have  a  tumble-down  appearance ;  flat  roofed,  with 
high,  narrow  doors  and  windows,  and  for  the  most 
part  built  of  old  tiles.  The  jetty  is  a  grand  place 
at  which  to  land  boats.  It  is  built  nicely,  of  pink- 
colored  stone,  and  finding  that  it  could  be  easily  cut, 
being  as  soft  as  chalk,  we  engraved  our  names  on  one 
of  its  arches. 

The  ship's  boys  and  myself  strolled  up  the  narrow, 
dusty  streets,  taking  note  of  all  that  interested  us. 
The  bugler  was  sounding  a  call  from  the  Governor's 
house  ;  his  bright  instrument  gleaming  in  the  rays  of 
the  hot  sun.  The  little,  white,  humped-back  cattle 
were  dragging  uncouth  carriages,  loaded  with  goods 
for  the  store-houses.  The  half-naked  girls,  as  black 
as  the  cook's  kettles,  were  all  about  us,  and  with 
many  signs,  besieged  us  to  buy  their  fruit,  cowry, 
shell-work,  pieces  of  ivory,  boiled  eggs,  and  long  jugs 
of  the  infernal  native  rum. 

After  freeing  ourselves  from  the  clamorous  crowd, 
we  passed  through  the  town,  and  became  interested 
in  looking  at^ie  rude  blacksmiths,  the  wood  carvers, 
and  the  bird  fanciers.  Everybody  looked  after  us  ; 
and  beggars  hobbled  along  and  cried  for  a  share  of 
our  bounty.  A  morsel  of  the  weed  satisfied  them. 
We  had  no  need  of  money  in  this  port,  our  tobacco 
purchased   for  us   all   we   wanted.      The    cocoa-nut 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,         37 

trees,  planted  in  all  directions,  were  pleasant  to 
our  sight.  Their  immense  long  leaves,  waving  in  the 
hot,  lazy  air,  relieved  the  wearisomeness  of  the  hot 
piles  of  old  buildings  that  we  rubbed  against  as  we 
walked.  Indeed,  I  thought  there  were  leaves  enough 
to  make  fans  to  cool  the  faces  of  every  church-goer  in 
the  world. 

We  had  rambled  about  the  town  until  we  had 
"  done  it  brown,"  and  as  the  sun  declined  in  the  West, 
pursued  our  way  to  the  jetty.  Getting  into  the  boat, 
we  pulled  off  to  the  barque,  and  found  that  a  load  of 
fresh  provisions  had  just  arrived  alongside.  By  this 
we  knew  that  we  were  soon  to  leave  and  go  to  Zanzi- 
bar. Everything  was  put  in  ship-shape  order,  and  all 
made  ready  for  instant  departure.  The  captain  said 
he  should  certainly  sail  at  the  dawn  of  day,  and  went 
to  take  a  last  look  at  the  imprisoned  mutineers. 


38         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 


CHAPTER    lY. 

Ho  for  Zanzibar  —  Charming  Weither  and  Scenery  —  Pilot  Fish 
and  Johnny  Shark  —  The  Island  in  View  —  "  Under  the  Sand  "  — 
Harbor  Scenes  —  A  Pull  for  the  Shore  —  Dress  and  Manners  — 
A  Fearful  Weapon  —  "  Old  Sides  "  and  his  Pet  Boys  —  A  Visit  to 
the  Shell  Shops  —  Oddities  and  Curious  Sights  —  Buying  Monkeys 
—  Slave  Market  at  Zanzibar  —  Ten  Dollars  a  Head —  A  Man  with 
Fifty  Wives  —  Rough  Sport — Sails  set  for  Aden  —  Passengers 
Received  —  Underway. 


HE  Captain  brought  back  in  the  boat  with 
^  him  the  four  imprisoned  men.  They  looked 
a  little  sick  of  their  confinement,  and  had 
agreed  to  assist  in  working  the  barque  to  Zanzibar,  to 
behave  themselves  during  the  passage,  and  allow  the 
American  Consul  there  to  dispose  of  them  as  he 
thought  best.  They  were  humble  enough,  and  glad 
to  get  back  to  their  old  floating  home. 

At  daylight  we  hove  the  anchor  to  the  bow,  set  our 
sails,  and  glided  out  of  the  harbor,  sheering  the  long, 
black  reefs  that  lie  outside.  The  gray  mist  of  the 
morning  was  lifting  from  the  river,  and  the  air  was 
fragrant  with  the  fruits  and  flowers  of  the  tropics. 
The  gaily-plumaged  birds  flew  from  one  strip  of  land 
to  another,  as  the  Guide  entered  the  narrow  strait 
that  led  to  the  dark  blue  waters  beyond. 

The  waves  were  churned  into  yeasty  foam  by  the 
towering  rocks  that  rose  like  walls  on  our  port  hand. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         39 

Large  schools  of  porpoises  and  grampus  were  playing 
outside  of  the  reef.  The  anchors  were  fished  and 
catted,  and  we  came  into  the  open  sea  in  fine  style. 
The  flying-fish  darted  from  the  water,  and  the  Nauti- 
lus, or  Portuguese  man-of-war,  spread  his  tiny  purple 
sail,  with  its  long  poisonous  nettles  dragging  in  the 
water.  The  scene  was  beautiful  in  all  respects,  for 
the  day  was  charming,  and  all  nature  seemed  in  per- 
fect harmony.  The  lofty  table  lands  were  fast  fading 
from  view,  and  the  well-wooded  shores  lessened  into 
a  single  green  strip,  or  belt,  to  our  sight,  as  our  clip- 
per cleft  the  clear  waters,  and  pointed  her  sharp  nose 
for  Zanzibar.  The  pilot-fish  were  constantly  under 
the  bows,  and  the  long  gray  shark,  showed  his  sharp 
fin  cutting  through  the  water,  or  rolled  over  on  his 
side  to  catch  any  tempting  morsel  that  floated  astern. 
The  mutineers  attended  to  their  duties,  and  said  but 
little.  They  only  worked  the  barque,  and  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  washing  down  the  deck,  or  any  other 
labor. 

The  fine  weather  continued,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
fourth  day  after  leaving  the  port  of  Mozambique,  the 
large  island  of  Zanzibar  loomed  up  before  us.  The 
long  points  of  land  on  either  bow  seemed  to  welcome 
us  in.  Beyond  Cocoa-Nut  Island  we  observed  the 
tall  spars  of  the  Arab  men-of-war,  riding  at  anchor. 
They  were  formerly  English  vessels,  two  and  three- 
deckers,  and  were  presented  to  the  king  of  Zanzibar, 
by  the  English  government.  They  bore  the  long  red 
flag  of  the  cotintry,  and  looked  very  imposing  as  they 
lay  at  their  moorings.  The  town  was  fairly  before  us, 
with  Dead  Man's  Island  on  the  Nor'- West. 


40         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life^ 

How  many  sailors'  bones  lie  under  the  sand  and 
grass  of  that  little  island !  The  storm-tossed  old  salt 
peacefully  sleeps  there.  The  fair-haired  boy,  fresh 
from  home,  rests  beneath  its  soil.  No  fond  eyes  will 
sparkle  to  see  him  return  from  his  first  voyage,  no 
blithe  step  spring  to  welcome  him  home.  How  is  it 
that  so  many  have  thus  died?  They  entered  the 
harbor,  full  of  life  and  health,  but  a  too  free  indul- 
gence in  fruit,  liquor,  and  sleeping  where  the  deadly 
night-dews  fell  upon  them,  cut  short  their  earthly 
career.  I  am  filled  with  dread  as  I  think  of  that  little 
island,  and  am  glad  that  my  bones  are  not  there, 
although  it  was  by  a  desperate  move  that  I  was  saved 
from  the  death-grip  of  the  African  cholera.  I  had 
eaten  for  supper  only  a  slice  of  wheat  bread,  spread 
with  mango  jelly,  and  a  banana  or  two,  and  after 
walking  the  deck  till  nine  at  night,  retired  to  my 
berth.  Quite  unexpectedly  I  was  taken  with  the 
cholera,  and  turned  black  in  a  few  hours.  All  the 
ship's  remedies  failed,  and  I  was  in  horrid  spasms. 
All  was  done  in  vain.  The  men  said,  "  Dead  Man's 
Island  is  gaping  for  poor  Ned."  I  had  medicine  of  my 
own  ;  the  dose  for  cholera  was  a  wine-glass  full.  I 
dragged  myself  to  my  little  state-room,  opened  my 
chest,  took  a  pint  bottle  of  the  medicine  and  laid  down 
to  "  die  by  my  colors."  The  medicine  proved  my 
salvation  ;  I  was  weak  and  delirious  for  three  days, 
then  came  out  as  bright  as  a  silver  dollar,  and  went 
about  my  usual  duties.  I  could  eat  tropical  fruit 
after  that,  as  I  can  now  eat  any  kind  of  our  Northern 
fruit,  with  impunity. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         41 

Up  we  passed  to  our  anchorage.  The  shores  lined 
with  dark  waving  foliage,  were  on  the  starboard  hand. 
The- water  was  so  clear  we  could  see  the  bottom  of  the 
bay  under  the  keel  of  our  vessel.  The  pilot-fish  were 
balancing  on  their  strong  little  fins,  and  keeping  up 
with  our  own  swift  sailing.  We  watched  the  sluggish 
shark  as  it  moved  through  the  clear  water,  and  every 
weed  and  rock  was  visible  to  us  as  we  leaned  over  the 
bows.  This  same  kind  of  rocky  bottoni  I  have  seen 
on  the  main  ledge  of  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland, 
and  also  the  pure  sandy  bottom  on  the  Bahama 
banks. 

We  gave  the  long  point  of  white  sand  a  good  berth 
and  ran  in  among  the  shipping  lying  at  anchor. 
Down  went  the  mud-hook,  the  cable  tautened  at 
twenty-five  fathoms,  and  we  had  room  to  swing  among 
the  many  craft  that  filled  the  harbor.  There  were 
men-of-war,  merchant  ships  of  many  nations,  and 
Arab  dows  and  bungalows  in  profusion.  A  Yankee 
barque  had  just  been  taken  by  the  English  steamer, 
"  Brisk,"  with  four  hundred  and  eighty  slaves  aboard. 
Some  said  it  was  the  "  Sunny  South,"  of  New  York. 
The  French  frigate  "  La  Some "  had  just  left  the 
harbor  to  catch  another  that  that  morning  had  dared 
to  show  her  topsails  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  island. 

A  chanty  gang  was  engaged  to  hoist  out  the  cargo, 
and  one  of  them  in  trying  to  steal  hard  bread,  find- 
ing the  bull-dog  upon  him,  jumped  overboard  and 
swam  safely  ashore. 

The  mutinous  men  were  handed  over  to  the  Amer- 
ican Consul,  and  at  his  desire,  they  were  placed  in 


42         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

the  large  round  prison.  They  were  suppHed  with 
food  from  the  barque  until  the  vessel  left  the  port. 
I  saw  two  of  those  men  in  Bombay  many  months 
after.  They  said  they  held  no  ill-will  against  any 
one,  and  came  to  the  ship  that  I  served  on,  treated 
me  in  good  shape,  and  offered  me  a  handful  of  rupees, 
for  they  had  been  lucky  in  escaping  the  fatal  wreck 
on  which  so  many  of  their  shipmates  had  perished. 

The  natives  employed  to  discharge  our  cargo 
strung  themselves  out  on  the  long  fall,  and  merrily 
hoisted  from  the  hold  the  bales  of  cotton  cloth,  boxes 
of  cigars,  tobacco,  and  sugar,  that  were  consigned  to 
this  port.  My  own  duties  were  light.  All  that  I 
had  to  do  was  to  take  an  account  of  the  cargo,  as  it 
came  from  the  hatch.  I  sat  under  the  awning  with 
a  negro  standing  fanning  me,  and  had  plenty  of  cigars 
to  smoke.  All  of  the  cabin  work  was  performed  in 
the  cool  of  the  day. 

Hundreds  of  boats  were  plying  about  the  calm  har- 
bor, the  songs  of  their  lusty  crews  echoing  from  shore  to 
shore.  Large  Arab  dows  were  loading  with  cocoa-nuts, 
bound  for  Aden.  I  went  aboard  one  of  them,  and 
found  an  ungainly  vessel  of  about  one  hundred  tons, 
built  of  teak  wood,  with  the  wheel  amidship,  masts 
leaning  sharply  forward,  bearing  large,  clumsy,  trian- 
gular sails.  The  hold  was  full  of  cocoa-nuts.  The 
crew  were  lounging  about,  with  the  cut-throat  look- 
ing jambea  in  their  girdles.  I  saw  no  block  nor  pul- 
lies  of  any  kind.  All  the  rigging  was  made  of  coir 
rope,  and  the  sails  of  good  cotton  duck.  Two  large 
copper  cannon  were  lying  dismounted  on  the  deck, 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,         43 

and  the  long  red  flag,  with  its  crescent  and  star  flut- 
tered from  its  staff*  at  the  stern. 

I  stepped  into  the  boat  again,  and  told  the  four 
good-looking  darkies  to  pull  for  the  shore.  These 
boat  boys  were  "  Old  Sides  "  pet  boys,  and  attended  to 
the  wants  of  the  Yankee  captains.  They  knew  every 
vessel  that  came  from  America,  and  as  they  pulled 
their  sharp  little  boat  for  the  shore,  talked  in  very 
good  English.  They  were  all  dressed  in  gay  and 
clean  clothes,  their  little  daggers  glistening  in  the 
many  folds  of  bright  cloth  about  their  waists.  We 
landed,  and  with  the  eldest  boy,  whom  I  called 
"  Uma,"  started  up  the  street.  I  was  as  gay  as  any 
young  sailor  should  be  when  on  a  day's  liberty. 

I  told  my  young  guide  to  go  to  the  shell  shops,  and 
as  I  toiled  through  the  narrow  streets,  I  stopped  every 
little  while  to  see  the  natives  at  their  daily  work,  fab- 
ricating iron  from  the  bar,  making  daggers,  swords, 
spear-heads,  and  the  jambea.  This  last  weapon  is 
enough  to  make  the  blood  rim  cold  to  look  upon. 
The  handle  is  set  full  of  gay  and  costly  stones.  The 
blade  is  broad,  short,  and  curved  like  a  fish-hook. 
The  manner  of  using  it  is  to  plunge  it  into  the  ene- 
my's body,  and  rip  the  victim  clear  to  the  throat,  and 
is,  as  may  readily  be  supposed,  a  terrible  weapon  in 
the  hands  of  an  adept. 

Entering  the  shell  shop,  I  found  piles  of  conch  and 
other  large  shells  which  the  divers  obtain  from  the 
bottom  of  the  sea.  Farther  on  were  those  of  a  smaller 
size,  and  as  room  after  room  was  visited,  we  came  at 
length  to  the  small,  delicate  ones  I  so  eagerly  sought. 


44         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

I  gave  a  half  dollar  in  silver  for  as  many  as  I  could 
easily  carry  in  a  rush  basket.  Oh,  how  American 
girls  would  like  to  liave  walked  through  that  shop, 
rude  as  it  was,  and  emitting  a  nauseous  odor,  yet  piled 
full  of  beautiful  marine  shells  ,  though  they  might  be 
shocked  at  the  appearance  of  the  women  and  girls, 
they  would  certainly  be  in  ecstacies  of  delight  as 
they  looked  upon  the  exquisite  cowry  shell-work, 
the  feather  and  mat  work,  the  bead  trimming,  and  the 
gaily  made  jewelry  so  plentiful. 

I  returned  to  my  floating  home  in  time  to  prepare 
the  evening  meal,  which  consisted  of  salt  beef,  bread, 
sardines,  wine,  and  sugared  oranges.  The  men  on 
deck  were  buying  monkeys ;  and  a  little  animal  called 
the  "  Mongoose,'^  was  in  great  demand  with  all.  The 
chanty  men  wanted  biscuit,  and  waited  to  receive 
them.  The  white  bull-dog  drove  the  chattering  crowd 
into  the  rigging,  and  after  the  mate  had  teased 
them  long  enough,  he  gave  them  some  hard  bread, 
which  they  folded  in  their  turbans,  and  then  went 
ashore  as  happy  as  larks. 

The  barque  "  Sunny  South  "  had  been  disposed 
of,  the  "  La  Some  "  had  at  last  cornered  the  other 
slaver,  and  the  deep  booming  of  her  twenty-four 
pounders  awoke  the  sleepy  natives  from  their  siesta. 

A  walk  to  the  market-place  revealed  to  us  that  the 
Sabbath  was  not  known  there.  The  Mohammedan 
religion  holds  undisputed  sway  in  these  countries,  ex- 
cept among  the  inland  tribes,  who  worship  anything 
they  please.  Even  the  most  degraded  men  on  the 
face  of  the  earth  admit  there  is  a  great  Fountain  of 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.         45 

Supreme  Good,  one  high  and  mighty  Ruler  over  all, 
who  keeps  this  vast  machine  of  land,  water,  sun,  and 
all  the  planets,  in  perfect  order,  —  Nature's  great 
God, —  and  yet  there  are  white  men,  blessed  with 
every  opportunity  of  learning  of  Him,  who  say, "  There 
is  no  God,  all  things  are  the  result  of  chance." 

The  Slave  trade  is  smouldering  in  its  ashes. 
Guinea  and  Senegal  took  a  long  leap  when  this  dia- 
bolical traffic  jumped  across  the  continent  of  Africa ; 
but  English  gunboats  and  small  cruisers  have  ferret- 
ed out  the  slavers,  and  followed  them  so  closely  that 
they  are  now  nearly  extinct.  At  Zanzibar  are  still  to 
be  found  slaves  of  all  sizes,  standing  ready  for  sale, 
at  any  price  from  ten  to  fifty  dollars.  When  "  Old 
Sides,"  the  homely,  black,  ill-shaped,  lord  of  the 
manor,  fancies  a  clean,  well-formed  negress,  he  buys 
and  takes  her  to  his  harem.  He  has  now  over 
fifty  wives,  and  hundreds  of  slaves.  He  is  a  regu- 
lar black  devil,  but  keeps  on  the  blind  side  of  the 
captains  that  come  to  this  port  Ah,  Sides,  you  are 
an  old  wretch,  and  any  one  can  see  it.  Have  you 
not  seen  flesh  and  blood  sold  hundreds  of  times  — 
and  how  many  of  your  victims  have  you  planted  un- 
der the  sod !  But  he  is  always  ready  to  serve  the 
captains  with  anything  the  shore  produces,  his  boats 
and  boys  being  always  at  their  service. 

We  returned  to  the  vessel,  as  the  damp  night  air 
was  closing  over  all  nature.  Fires  had  been  burning 
on  the  beach  ever  since  our  arrival ;  also,  singing  to 
rude  music,  dancing,  howling,  and  gun  firing  on  shore 
every  night.    Sleep  was  out  of  the  question.    The 


46         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life* 

mosquitoes  bit  us,  the  heat  oppressed,  the  wild,  horrid 
music  annoyed  us,  from  set  of  sun  until  daylight. 
One  of  the  boat  boys  was  cut  to  the  bone  while  at 
play,  yet  he  gloried  in  his  scars,  and  said  that  some 
boys  were  killed  with  hatchets  while  engaged  in  their 
sports.  Rough  pastime,  young  Africa  uses  himself 
to,  I  thought. 

At  day  dawn  we  weighed  anchor  and  set  every  sail, 
bound  to  Aden.  We  had  shipped  four  men  to  fill  the 
places  of  those  we  had  left  in  prison.  The  vessel  was 
hove  to,  off  the  point,  and  received  Madame  Mass,  her 
daughter,  and  a  female  slave,  followed  by  the  cele- 
brated Dr.  Ray,  of  Glasgow,  Scotland,  a  man  of  sci- 
ence also  a  traveller;  The  wind  dying  out  just  as  we 
came  ahead  of  the  largest  frigate,  the  tide  carried 
our  vessel  against  its  jib-boom.  It  snapped  like  a 
pipe-stem,  and  in  an  instant  all  of  her  head  gear  and 
our  fore  rigging  was  a  complete  and  tangled  wreck, 
serious  damage  to  our  own  and  other  vessels  growing 
more  threatening  every  moment. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         47 


CHAPTER    Y. 

A  Lively  Time  —  Arab  Dirks  and  Yankee  Shooters  —  '*  To  Much 
Rumpee"  — "All  Right,  Old  Kick-Shins  "— Prophetic  Dreams 
—  On  like  a  Racer  —  More  Swift  than  Sure  —  She  Strikes  the 
Shore  —  High  and  Dry  —  The  Beginning  of  our  Sufferings  — 
Resignation  of  Madame  Mass  —  Discovered  by  the  Natives  — 
Five  Hundred  on  Board,  fully  Armed  —  Submission  our  only 
Safety  —  A  Sudden  Reprieve  —  We  are  ordered  to  the  Village  — 
Horrible  Agony  —  New  York  Papers  Devoured  —  Perishing  with 
Hungar  and  Thirst — Desperation  of  some  of  the  Party  —  Reason 
Gone  —  Left  Behind —  The  Dawn  of  Hope. 


HEN  began  one  of  the  liveliest  times  a  sailor 
could  wish  to  see.  There  lay  seven  men-of- 
war,  with  hot  blooded  Arab  crews  eager  for 
the  safety  of  their  respective  ships,  while  our  strong, 
new  barque  with  heavy  anchors  on  the  rail  was  borne 
along  by  the  resistless  tide,  sweeping  the  side  of 
the  frigate.  Swinging  booms,  boats,  gangway-ladders 
and  fancy  quarter  galleries  were  swept  aw^ay  like  chaff 
before  the  wind.  Our  passengers  were  hurried  below 
out  of  harm's  way.  Our  spanker-gafF  with  all  its 
gear,  was  broken  by  the  frigate's  main  yard  and  fell, 
striking  our  mate  on  his  back.  He  was  thus  used  up 
for  duty,  but  gave  his  orders  like  a  brave  man.  Our 
Captain  w^as  in  every  place  where  danger  threatened, 
and  at  length  we  managed  to  clear  the  first  vessel. 

Into  the  second  we  plunged  and  made  smashing 
work  for  awhile.     The  rigging  of  both  vessels  parted 


48         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 

like  thread.  The  Arab  crew,  half-naked,  with  dag- 
gers in  their  mouths,  boarded  us  on  the  quarter,  and 
rushed  over  the  fallen  mass  at  the  Captain,  who,  re- 
volver in  hand,  kept  them  at  bay.  Our  crew  were 
tussling  with  Arabs  forward,  and  the  spars  of  both 
vessels  having  released  their  hold,  the  ships  parted, 
leaving  a  handful  of  dismayed  Arabs  on  our  deck. 
A  boat,  pulled  by  natives,  dashed  to  our  side,  the 
King's  son  and  the  many  adherents  he  always  had 
about  him,  joined  the  melee.  The  best  anchor  had  been 
let  go,  and  finally  brought  us  up  fair  under  the  bows 
of  another  frigate.  As  quick  as  a  cat,  the  King's  son 
and  his  followers  jumped  among  the  Arab  sailors,  and 
with  the  terrible  jambea  in  hand,  drove  them  from 
our  men.  Our  Captain  and  the  young  Prince  clasped 
each  other  in  a  fraternal  hug,  and  as  soon  as  the  latter 
could  articulate,  said : 
#  "I  see  too  much  rumpee,  Cap'en  ;  me  no  see  you 
gittee  killed ;  my  men  too  much  fight." 

"  0  yes,"  said  our  Captain,  "  I  know  the  rascals 
are  good  with  the  knife,  but  they  are  not  used  to  our 
revolvers." 

Nobody  was  hurt,  though  many  were  frightened, 
and  a  great  deal  of  damage  was  done  to  the  vessels. 
The  Consul  immediately  came  aboard,  and  all  expenses 
and  difficulties  were  satisfactorily  adjusted.  "  Old 
Sides  "  hurried  off  to  us  in  his  boat  and  was  ready  to 
assist.  "  All  right,  old  kick-shins,"  cried  our  Captain, 
as  he  pulled  away,  "  we'll  be  out  of  this  in  a  day  or 
two." 

We  lay  here  two  days,  and  having  repaired  the 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         49 

sails  and  spars,  once  more  raised  the  anchor  to  the 
bows,  and  left  the  land  behind  us  without  any  further 
accident.  The  low  islands  faded  away,  the  lines  of 
green  trees  being  the  last  objects  that  pointed  out  to 
us  the  island  of  Zanzibar.  We  had  fairly  left  that 
half-civilized  land,  and  were  about  to  enter  the  jaws 
of  suffering  and  sure  destruction.  The  monsoon 
swept  us  over  the  clear  blue  water.  The  barque  had 
every  stitch  of  canvas  set  that  the  spars  could  carry, 
the  weather  was  beautiful,  and  the  lead  found  no 
shoal  water.  The  passengers  chatted,  joked,  and 
slept  under  the  awning ;  read  the  many  books  with 
which  the  cabin  was  stocked,  and  all  hands  enjoyed 
themselves  to  their  full  capacity. 

I  was  uneasy  all  the  time.  I  helped  the  mate  when 
he  picked  out  the  course  on  the  chart,  and  saw  that 
we  were  rushing  on  our  way  at  high  speed.  For  three 
nights  in  succession  I  dreamed  that  the  barque  was^ 
lost  by  striking  the  shore.  The  ship's  company  all 
laughed  at  my  fears. 

"  0,  that 's  all  in  my  eye  ;  don't  you  'spose  the  old 
man  knows  the  road  ?  You  need  not  fret  about  the 
course  or  tide^." 

Such  were  the  remarks  that  I  heard,  so  I  hold  my 
peace  and  retired  to  my  berth  at  eight-bells.  As  I 
entered  the  companion-way  I  cast  a  long  look  around. 
Clear  blue  sky  and  moonlit  water  were  only  present 
to  my  view.  The  gaily  bounding  barque,  steered 
true  as  a  die,  was  rushing  like  a  racer  before  the 
strong  monsoon.  All  looked  safe  and  riglit  as  I  laid 
down,  and  fell  asleep.  I  was  having  a  happy  dream 
4 


50         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

of  home,  when  I  was  thrown  from  my  berth  to  the 
floor.  I  arose  and  heard  the  cook  shout,  "  Oh,  my 
God !  we're  lost ;  turn  out,  tumble  up."  I  glanced 
at  the  clock ;  it  was  twenty  minutes  past  twelve.  I 
ran  on  deck,  and  saw  everything  in  dire  confusion ; 
the  clewline  and  standing  gear  had  snapped,  like 
threads,  when  she  struck  the  reef. 

"  Lay  up  aloft  and  run  the  stunsail  booms  oiBf," 
shouted  the  mate. 

"  Brace  back  the  yards ;  down  with  your  wheel, 
and  fly  about,  men,"  yelled  the  Captain. 

The  pale  faces  of  the  passengers  seemed  ghastly  in 
the  full  moon  beams,  that  fell  upon  the  disordered 
deck.  To  hope  that  she  would  work  back  over  the 
reef,  was  useless.  The  ponderous  anchor  thundered 
its  iron  chains  to  the  bottom,  —  the  barque  was  in  the 
power  of  the  strong  ground  swell.  Every  time  she 
struck  the  hard  bottom  it  seemed  as  if  the  blow  would 
break  the  vessel  in  twain.  A  long,  low  line  of  sand 
was  before  us,  gleaming  like  a  silver  thread,  and  the 
man  at  the  wheel  could  only  steady  the  barque  to  her 
death.  Anchors  were  dragged  like  playthings,  and 
in  the  mighty  grasp  of  the  breakers  the  doomed  ves- 
sel was  thrown  in,  on  an  even  keel,  far  up  on  the  low, 
hard  beach. 

Is  there  any  hope  of  going  away  from  this  spot  ? 
No.  Can  a  boat  live  to  pass  through  that  towering 
wall  of  white  breakers  ?  Never.  Then  here  we  are, 
and  must  take  our  chances  for  life  or  death. 

The  yeasty  breakers  combed  over  our  quarters  and 
drenched  our   dismayed  crew.    A  barrel   on   deck 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         51 

soon  had  its  head  knocked  in,  and  the  men  drank  the 
strong  black  wine  to  keep  up  their  spirits,  and  enable 
them  to  face  the  danger.  Is  there  any  value  in  rum- 
courage  ?  Is  it  not  better  that  the  pale  cheek  and 
steady  eye  meet  the  danger  and  face  it?  We  anx- 
iously watched  for  daylight,  which  soon  appeared, 
and  those  whose  nerves  were  strong  enough  to  con- 
template the  scene,  shuddered  at  the  wild  view  pre- 
sented. There  was  no  sign  of  human  habitation,  no 
vegetation  of  any  kind  was  visible.  Behind  us  was 
tlire  thundering  ocean,  and  a  wild  barren  country 
ahead.  Sand,  sand,  and  dry  hills  as  far  as  vision 
could  reach.  The  monsoon  would  blow  in  shore  for 
months  to  come,  and  to  attempt  to  force  a  boat  out 
to  sea  would  have  been  madness.  We  ate  our  morn- 
ing meal  in  silence,  our  hearts  too  full  of  agony  to 
talk  to  each  other. 

The  grief  of  Madam  Mass  and  her  daughter  was 
heart-rending  to  behold,  and  Dr.  Ray  was  too  much 
terrified  to  eat,  but  gathered  his  valuables  into  a 
compact  bundle.  All  his  rare  curiosities,  the  re- 
sult of  years  of  travel,  danger,  and  explorations  of 
inland  Africa,  must  be  lost.  His  electric  fishes  with- 
out eyes ;  his  land  and  water  quadrupeds ;  his  bars 
of  red  gold,  and  all  the  rare  minerals,  must  be  as 
nothing  to  him.  Madam  Mass  led  me  to  her  room, 
and  with  tears  in  her  eyes  and  heart  full  of  grief  at 
the  prospect  of  her  fate,  said  — 

"  Here,  my  lad,  find  my  letters  from  my  husband, 
my  little  trinkets  and  most  durable  dresses  for  myself 
and  child,  and  tie  up  some  eatables  in  a  handkerchief. 
I  know  the  danger  we  must  run.'* 


52         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

"  What,"  said  I,  "  don't  you  want  your  gold,  your 
clothes  and  other  valuables  ?  " 

"  No,  I  shall  have  no  need  of  them  here." 

I  unpacked  her  chest,  and  large  travelling  boxes. 
Splendid  bonnets ;  cloths  of  velvet  and  gold ;  silk 
dresses;  silver-hooped  skirt;  two  bags  of  gold,  and 
all  kinds  of  ladies'  articles  were  thrown  in  confusion 
on  the  floor. 

Her  valuable  papers  and  husband's  letters  she 
placed  in  her  bosom.  She  was  a  wealthy  lady,  and 
her  daughter  was  a  little  lily  of  a  girl, — only  twelve 
years  of  age.  Her  servant  was  a  young  female  slave, 
sick,  and  for  the  time,  useless,  and  she  therefore  de- 
sired my  assistance,  which  I  very  willingly  gave  her. 

I  returned  to  my  room,  emptied  my  trunk  of  its 
contents  and  filled  it  with  baked  bread,  pickles,  cheese, 
sardines,  and  bottles  of  wine.  I  then  went  on  deck. 
All  the  sails  were  furled  except  the  fore-topsail  and 
foresail.  These  two  proved  to  be  our  salvation.  At 
dark  we  noticed  two  naked  savages  on  the  beach, 
who,  after  taking  a  long  look  at  our  situation,  ran 
oflf  in  a  westerly  direction,  and  were  soon  lost  to  our 
view.  We  passed  a  wretched  night.  The  chance  of 
life  looked  slim  to  us,  and  we  anxiously  waited  the 
dawn  of  day.  When  it  came  it  revealed  to  our 
startled  gaze  about  forty  savages  armed  with  long 
spears,  running  up  and  down  the  beach,  eating  the 
fruit  that  had  been  washed  ashore  daring  the  night. 
They  scrutinized  us  a  long  time,  and  then  the  whole 
pack,  scattering  in  different  directions,  passed  from 
our  sight  among  the  hills  of  sand  that  ran  in  ridges 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.         53 

along  the  coast.  In  the  afternoon,  when  the  tide  was 
low,  and  the  vessel  high  and  dry,  some  of  the  crew 
dropped  from  the  dolphin  striker  to  the  beach,  and 
proceeded  along  the  edge  of  the  water  two  miles  or 
more.  We  saw  them  returning  before  dusk  with 
blanched  cheek  and  unsteady  gait.  They  reported 
having  seen  the  wreck  of  a  vessel  imbedded  in  the 
sand  ;  her  spars  and  long  boat  on  the  hill,  and  numer- 
ous large  pieces  of  coal  lying  about  on  the  shore.  The 
sea-boots  and  oiled  clothing  of  the  hapless  crew  were 
found  in  the  boat,  and  the  skulls  and  other  bones  of 
the  men  were  bleaching  upon  the  hot  sand.  These 
were  mournful  tidings,  and  sad  forebodings  of  our 
fate  came  over  us,  when  Madam  Mass  remarked  to  the 
Captain  that  it  was  a  French  ship,  loaded  with  coal,  and 
that  every  soul  on  board  perished  there.  Fillemane, 
her  daughter,  stood  by.  "  What  will  become  of  you, 
my  darling  child,"  cried  the  agonized  mother.  "  Oh, 
Captain,  I  see  how  it  will  end.  Jesus  have  mercy  on 
us  all." 

We  lowered  a  boat  over  the  side;  it  was  stove 
to  pieces,  the  crew  barely  escaping  destruction.  The 
strong  surf-boat  was  next  tried,  and  it  was  hurled 
upon  the  beach  with  the  men  in  it ;  no  power  of  mus- 
cle or  ashen  oars  being  able  to  force  it  through  the 
breakers.  I  have  seen  heavy  breakers  since  that  time, 
but  none  in  which  such  power  was  displayed,  as  in 
those  whose  surf  thundered  on  that  desolate  shore. 
No  eyes  were  closed  that  night ;  we  were  too  keenly 
sensible  of  our  peril  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  sleep. 

In  the  morning  the  natives  began  to  arrive  with 


54         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

camels  and  donkeys.  They  were  fully  armed  with 
spears,  slings,  shields,  bows  and  arrows,  and  daggers. 
Our  Captain  called  us  all  aft,  and  pointing  out  to  us 
the  uselessness  of  fighting  that  large  band  of  savages, 
said,  "  Boys,  I  tell  you  just  what  I  think,  —  those 
devils  will  take  us  any  how  ;  we  cannot  get  away.  If 
we  kill  a  hundred  there  will  be  five  hundred  more  to 
fill  their  places,  and  we  shall  be  wiped  out  after  all. 
Therefore,  our  best  course  will  be  to  come  to  terms 
of  peace  with  them  ;  we  had  better  try  to  do  so,  but 
if  we  cannot  get  along  without  a  quarrel  we  must  all 
of  us  die.  For  my  part,  I  shall  do  the  best  in  my 
power  (here  he  glanced  at  the  savages  who  had 
formed  a  circle  on  the  beach)  to  save  our  lives  and 
personal  property,  if  there  is  the  first  ghost  of  a 
chance.'*     In  this  view  of  the  case  we  all  agreed. 

When  the  savages  broke  their  circle,  they  rushed 
into  the  boiling  surf,  with  daggers  in  their  teeth; 
their  long  black  arms  propelling  their  slender  bodies 
toward  the  vessel.  The  water  between  us  and  the 
shore  was  full  of  black  heads.  "VVe  could  have 
killed  a  hundred  before  they  reached  the  vessel,  but 
our  salvation  depended  upon  keeping  quiet,  and  in 
a  short  time  they  had  full  possession  of  the  deck. 
Three  chiefs  then  approached  the  Captain  and 
mates,  with  daggers  in  hand.  The  officers  were 
ready  to  treat  for  peace  and  life,  or  fight  until  they 
died.  The  men's  knives  were  held  in  their  sleeves  ; 
handspikes  and  iron  belaying  pins  were  conveniently 
at  hand.  The  brawny  cook  stood  well  armed  in 
the  galley,  and  even  I,  myself,  had  a  pistol  in  my 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         55 

pant's  pocket,  and  a  carving  knife  tucked  down  the 
back  of  my  neck.  A  number  held  their  breath,  wait- 
ing for  a  signal  for  them  to  spring  into  the  dusky 
crowd.  Our  fate  hung  on  a  small  thread.  Fare- 
well, home  and  friends,  thought  I ;  good  bye,  young 
life,  for  another  world,  —  when,  to  our  astonishment, 
Madam  Mass  walked  up  to  the  head  man,  or  chief, 
and  showed  to  him  a  piece  of  old  parchment.  He 
looked  angry  upon  seeing  it,  but  through  an  inter- 
preter told  the  Captain  that  our  lives  were  spared. 
That  little  parchment  was  a  protection  from  the 
King  of  Zanzibar,  whose  will  none  of  these  tribes 
dare  to  disobey.  We  showed  the  chief  the  English 
flag,  and  its  appearance  had  a  wholesome  effect  on 
him.  Too  well  they  feared  the  dreaded  king,  or  a 
visit  of  a  man-of-war  that  could  throw  their  town  in- 
to ruin  in  four  minutes,  and  capture  every  one  for  a 
hopeless  slavery.  Many  of  the  savages  being  clamor- 
ous for  our  lives,  we  began  to  doubt  their  kind  inten- 
tions, but  the  principal  chief,  whom  they  called  "  Ali," 
sprang  among  the  hot-headed,  tumultuous  blacks, 
and  with  a  war-club  distributed  them  helter-skelter, 
right  and  left.  This  knock-down  argument  stopped 
all  further  outbursts.  Our  chance  for  life  was  good 
for  the  present,  and  we  were  glad  of  an  opportunity 
to  breath  freely  once  more. 

How  many  crews  have  been  placed  in  our  trying 
situation,  and  have  not  escaped  to  tell  the  tale  ?  The 
report  in  the  columns  of  many  papers  has  been,  "  Never 
heard  from."  Why  ?  Because  the  ship  struck  a  reef; 
all  hands  were  murdered,  the  vessel  demolished,  the 


56  Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

last  vestige  of  men,  vessel  and  cargo  destroyed, —  far 
from  liome  and  assistance.  The  wife,  mother,  and 
friends  waited,  year  after  year,  for  the  return  of  the 
husband,  son,  or  friend  they  loved  so  well,  whose  bones, 
alas,  lay  bleaching  on  the  shores  of  some  distant  land, 
and  never  should  fond  eyes  behold  that  loved  form 
again  in  this  life.  Years  of  painful,  weary  suspense, 
glided  slowly  by,  and  to  them  a  mystery  ever  shrouded 
the  fate  of  the  lost.  They  grew  reconciled  in  time, 
when  the  last  ray  of  hope  had  expired,  and  hoped  to 
meet  their  darling  on  a  fairer  and  a  brighter  shore. 

By  signs  the  natives  managed  to  impart  to  us  their 
wish  that  we  should  find  our  way  to  their  village,  and 
the  interpreter,  after  a  long  confab  with  the  chief, 
told  us  to  take  our  valuables  and  leave  the  vessel*. 
The  chief  pointed  out  the  direction  in  which  we  were 
to  go,  and  immediately  his  followers  began  to  ransack 
and  plunder  the  barque.  It  was  a  splendid  prize  for 
the  natives,  and  in  their  eagerness  to  plunder,  they 
exhibited  a  desire  for  us  to  be  out  of  their  way.  The 
Captain  had  two  loaves  of  wedding  cake,  of  which  he 
could  not  eat  a  morsel.  I  sat  down  and  ate  as  much 
of  it  as  I  thought  might  last  me  at  least  three  days, 
then,  having  drank  a  bottle  of  white  wine,  felt  well- 
filled  and  strong.  I  pressed  the  ladies  to  eat,  but 
their  hearts  were  too  full  of  sorrow  to  do  so.  I  then 
shared  the  cake  and  wine  among  the  crew. 

The  scene  on  deck  beggared  description.  It  was  an 
African  hell  in  all  its  glory.  The  savages  were  saucy, 
and,  knowing  the  advantage  they  had  over  us,  were  for 
taking  our  lives,  while  the  chiefs  were  plundering  the 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,         57 

cabin.  We  all  quitted  the  ship  in  haste.  My  chest 
of  wine  and  food  was  tumbled  over  me  side,  and  towed 
to  the  shore,  but  was  never  seen  again  by  us.  Every- 
thing that  could  be  moved  was  thrown  to  the  natives 
swimming  in  the  water,  and  all  that  would  float  was 
pushed  to  the  beach,  the  heavy  articles  sinking  close 
to  the  side  of  the  barque.  1  implored  the  men  to 
leave  the  gold  and  take  plenty  to  eat,  —  but  they  saw 
no  need  of  doing  so,  and  unfortunately  for  themselves, 
did  not. 

I  assisted  the  ladies  ashore,  then  returned  to  the 
cabin,  secured  a  box  of  crackers,  a  box  of  cigars,  a 
bundle  of  papers,  my  pistol,  and  some  tobacco.  These, 
together  with  my  wet  garments,  made  quite  a  load  for 
me.  The  mate  was  calling  to  me  to  come  along,  or 
I  would  be  killed  by  the  savage  plunderers.  The 
scene  around  was  fearful.  The  natives  had  full 
swing.  A  bag  of  gold  that  was  on  deck,  I  threw  over 
the  side.  Jack  Bridges  caught  and  saved  it,  while  I 
leaped  into  the  surf,  and  waded  to  the  beach,  all 
the  men  laughing  at  my  load.  Two  of  the  men  had 
a  box  of  dollars,  both  hard  at  work  getting  it  along, 
and  going_high  up  on  the  beach,  they  opened  it, 
each  man  taking  his  part.  The  bag  of  gold  was 
in  charge  of  the  Captain,  who  looked  ten  years  older 
than  he  did  before  the  wreck.  The  empty  box  was 
buried  in  the  sand,  and  off  we  started,  the  bull-dog 
running  along  the  shore,  barking  joyously.  We  left 
the  beach,  and  followed  the  camels'  tracks  among  the 
sand  hills.  Night  came  on.  We  laid  down  in  the 
sand   and    slept    soundly.      Thus   passed    the    first 


58         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

day.  The  second  was  the  same.  We  travelled 
steadily  all  day,  toiling  under  the  burning  sun,  with 
nothing  but  a  few  crackers  to  eat,  yet  I  felt  tip-top, 
and  supported  the  delicate  girl  as  best  I  could. 

What  a  sorry  looking  company  we  were,  trudging 
wearily  along.  The  second  night  we  burrowed  in 
the  sand,  and  had  sweet,  refreshing  sleep.  The  third 
day  we  lost  the  trail,  and  many  felt  their  spirits  sink- 
ing to  low-water  mark,  when  they  gazed  on  the  vast 
range  of  barren  hills  spread  out  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  We  had  no  food,  no  water,  no  hope 
of  finding  tlie  natives'  town,  wherever  it  was ;  yet 
with  true  Yankee  grit,  we  marched  on  with  no  relia- 
ble leader,  and  had  gone  too  far  to  think  favorably 
of  turning  back. 

Now  the  pain  of  thirst  began  to  tell  upon  us. 
The  dog  panted  and  reeled  as  he  ran.  The  weak 
child  at  my  side  cried  continually,  the  mate  taking 
her  under  his  care.  I  had  a  shirt  tied  up  full  of 
dollars  on  my  shoulder.  "  Captain,  here  go  the  dol- 
lars," I  cried,  and  down  they  fell  on  the  sand. 
Others  followed  my  example,  throwing  away  mus- 
kets, letters,  and  all  encumbrances  At  dusk  we 
found  an  old  deserted  hut,  standing  solitary  on  a  flat, 
sandy  shore.  We  ran  eagerly  to  a  lake  that  greeted 
and  gladdened  our  sight,  but  found  it  to  be  a  bed  of 
salt  mixed  with  desert  sand  !  The  men  in  their  dis- 
appointment tore  the  hut  to  the  ground.  We  dug  in 
the  sand  for  water  and  found  it,  but  it  was  as  salt  as 
the  ocean  itself.  We  laid  on  the  ruins  of  the  hut 
that  night,  tossing  in  agony. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         59 

The  fourth  day  was  the  same  in  its  character  as 
those  that  preceded  it.  ^'  Water,  Water,"  was  the 
cry  from  agonized  lips.  We  ascended  a  rocky  hill 
and  took  a  view  around.  A  barren  waste  pre- 
sented itself  everywhere  except  to  the  eastward, 
where  a  long,  blue  line  marked  the  ocean.  We  con- 
cluded to  try  to  reach  it,  and  started  over  the  hills 
in  its  direction.  If  there  had  been  a  blade  of 
grass,  or  even  a  tree,  we  should  have  devoured  it. 
That  day  we  walked  over  vast  sheets  of  isinglass, 
flashing  like  mirrors  in  the  scorching  sun.  We  next 
came  to  large,  cool  caves  among  the  hills,  and  in  them 
sought  repose.  What  horrors  of  Tantalus  did  we 
undergo.  Every  time  we  laid  down,  we  saw  in 
bright  visions,  our  homes,  our  friends,  the  well-filled 
tables,  and  gushing  streams  of  water.  When  we 
awoke,  the  terrors  of  our  situation  stared  us  in  the 
face,  more  horrible  than  ever. 

I  had  copies  of  "  Harper's  Weekly  "  with  me,  con- 
taining sketches  of  the  "Lynn  Strike."  These 
papers  were  shared  among  us,  and  eagerly  eaten,  and 
with  the  pictures  of  home  and  familiar  faces,  were 
digested  by  our  hapless  company.  I  tried  to  eat  my 
boot-straps,  but  my  tongue  had  become  so  dry  that  I 
coTild  not  swallow.  It  was  high  noon  when  we  came 
from  the  cave,  and  continued  our  journey ;  when 
night  came,  we  again  laid  down  to  suffer  for  a  still 
longer  period  the  pangs  of  hunger  and  thirst,  pray- 
ing to  heaven  to  relieve  us  of  our  misery.  The  fifth 
day  our  sufferings  increased  terribly.  We  reached 
the  ocean  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  found  ourselves 


60         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

standing  on  a  high,  rocky  bhifF.  The  waves  beat  in 
fury  on  the  rocks,  three  hundred  feet  below  us. 
There  were  huge  fissures  in  the  cUff,  leading  down  to 
the  water's  edge,  through  which  the  wind  blew  heavily. 
We  laid  on  the  rocks  and  gazed  at  the  cool,  blue 
waters.  *'  Come,  Captain,"  cried  Madam  Mass,  "  I'll 
take  your  hand  and  Fillemane's,  and,  jumping  from 
this  cliff,  end  our  misery."  The  Captain  chose  to 
abide  his  fate.  Seven  of  us  scrambled  down  the 
rocky  chasm  to  the  sea,  and  on  turning  a  corner  of 
the  rock  a  sight  met  our  eyes  that  sent  the  stoutest- 
hearted  man  reeling  with  sickening  fear.  There  was 
lying  in  ashes,  that  had  burned  out  years  ago  and 
yet  retained  their  place,  the  ghastly,  grinning  skull  of 
a  white  man  !  "  Great  God  !"  we  cried,  "  what 
agonies  are  in  store  for  us  !" 

We  washed  our  bodies,  and  returned  to  our  com- 
panions at  the  top  of  the  rock.  Jack  Trull  swore 
he  must  have  a  piece  of  raw  man,  or  a  drink  of  dog's 
blood,  "  quick,  and  no  fooling  ;  and  if  you  have  got  a 
barker,  Ned,  that  can  pick  us  off,  you  are  the  lucky 
man  to  die.  Ain't  you  willing  to,  that  some  of  us 
may  live  to  tell  the  news  at  home  ?  I  tell  you,  Ned, 
I'll  stand  my  hand."  Thus  with  many  oaths  forced 
from  his  lips  by  the  desperateness  of  his  condition 
he  ran  on.  I  arose  from  the  ground,  revolver  in  hand, 
^nd  pointed  at  the  poor  dog.  My  mute  appeal  was 
answered  by  a  loud  "  yes,"  and,  "  do  it  quick  "  from 
all  except  the  Captain.  He  embraced  the  faithful 
animal,  then  turned  his  head  away.from  us,  and  cried 
like  a  child.     The  next  moment  "poor  Tige"  had 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,         61 

howled  his  last  howl.  One  barrel  of  the  pistol  was 
now  empty.  For  whom  were  the  full  barrels  re- 
served ? 

The  dog's  throat  was  cut,  and  every  precious  drop 
of  blood  saved  in  a  tin  can.  The  ladies  took  a  deep 
drink  of  it,  as  also  did  all  present  except  the  Captain. 
He  cut  a  piece  of  meat  from  the  carcass  for  himself, 
and  some  for  the  ladies.  Every  drop  of  blood  was 
drank,  and  the  tin  lapped  clean.  The  body  was 
carved  up  and  eaten,  and  although  raw,  it  was  far 
superior  to  leather  or  paper.  The  next  food  to  pass 
our  mouths  must  be  a  piece  of  raw  man  or  woman ! 
The  thought  was  fearful  in  the  extreme. 

The  mate  and  ladies  here  gave  themselves  up  to 
despair,  lying  down  to  die,  and  imploring  us  to  end 
their  misery.  Some  of  the  toughest  of  the  party  were 
losing  their  reason.  I  told  the  Captain  I  could  hold 
out  a  day  longer,  sure.  The  gold  was  divided,  and 
we  left  the  little  party  of  five,  who  could  go  no  further, 
to  perish  by  inches.  "  So  help  me  God,  we  will  send 
you  help  if  we  find  any,"  cried  the  Captain,  and  off 
we  started  down  the  coast.  At  set  of  sun  we  climbed 
a  high  hill,  and  as  the  foremost  man  gazed  with  aux- 
iovis  eyes,  he  caught  sight  of  a  small  white  speck  in 
the  distance.  It  appeared  no  larger  than  a  white  dot, 
it  was  so  far  away.  It  was  the  loosened  sail  of  our 
barque,  flying  in  the  wind.  We  yelled  and  laughed 
with  delirious  joy,  and  embraced  each  other  with 
streaming  eyes.  It  was  the  only  hope  for  the  lives  of 
both  parties,  but  it  was  miles  and  miles  away.  If  we 
could  reach  the  wreck  we  would  yet  have  a  chance 
for  life. 


62         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life, 


CHAPTER    YI. 

Plenty  of  Gold  but  no  P'ood  —  A  Parting  —  The  Last  Good  Bye  — 
Our  Strength  Leaving  Us  —  All  Grows  Dark  and  I  become  Uncon- 
scious—  Aid  from  the  Natives  —  "  Agoa,  Agoa"  —  At  the  Wreck 
Again  —  Arrival  of  Those  we  Left  Behind  —  Faithfulness  of  the 
Slave  Girl  —  Dr.  Ray  makes  Up  his  Mind  —  Queer  Antics  of  the 
Natives  —  Food  and  Water  Found  —  Councils  on  Shore  —  Shall 
we  be  Killed  or  Ransomed  —  Buttered  Gold  —  Dexterity  of  the 
Negro  Women —  Our  Fate  in  Suspense. 

K§-^  we  struggled  that  night,  reaching  a  deep, 
1^^^  dry  gully,  where  two  natives'  huts  stood.  We 
^il0^  hunted  around  for  something  to  eat,  and 
found  a  goat-skin  bottle,  ornamented  with  the  cowry 
shells  strung  about  it.  But,  0  horror !  it  was  empty 
and  dry.  Nothing  else  was  found  in  or  about  tlie  hut. 
There  was  a  narrow  path  that  led  over  the  hills.  The 
cook  pointed  it  out  to  us  and  said,  ^^  Captain,  four  men 
and  myself  will  strike  off  on  this  path,  and  we  may 
find  help  before  you  do.  We  will  do  our  best  for  all 
hands."  I  wished  to  go  with  them,  but  the  Captain 
said,  "  No,  Ned,  you  must  hang  to  us  ;  you  are  better 
off  than  any  of  us.  You  are  light,  young,  and  keep 
up  good  heart,  and  must  stay  with  me." 

The  cook  had  twenty  pieces  of  gold,  a  pair  of  scis- 
sors, and  to  please  him,  I  presented  him  with  my  pistol. 
We  had  been  neighbors  when  we  were  boys,  and  the 
ties  of  friendship  between  us  were  strong.     He  and 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,         63 

his  four  brave  companions  bade  us,  "  Good  bye,''  and 
started  up  the  narrow  path.  When  they  reached  the 
brow  of  the  hill,  they  turned  their  faces  towards  us, 
and  with  a  farewell  wave  of  the  hand,  disappeared 
from  our  view,  forever.  No  tidings  of  their  sad  fate 
ever  reached  us,  and  the  heart  sinks  at  tl^e  thought 
of  their  probable  end. 

Our  little  party,  with  bleeding  bodies,  tongues  hang- 
ing from  our  mouths,  and  clothes  in  rags,  plodded  on 
through  the  rocky  ravine.  Sharp  stones  cut  our  feet, 
our  legs  were  swollen  and  blistered  by  the  sun,  and 
more  than  twenty  times  that  eventful  night,  we  were 
ready  to  lie  down  and  die. 

At  about  midnight,  Bridges  and  "Webster  fell  upon 
the  sand  completely  gone.  The  gold  made  a  hard 
pillow  for  them.  They  cursed  the  wretched  fate  that 
seemed  to  await  them,  and  began  to  tear  their  cloth- 
ing to  eat.  The  Captain  and  myself  kept  on.  I  had 
thrown  away  all  the  gold  except  two  pieces.  These 
I  put  in  my  pocket,  where  they  soon  chafed  me  so 
much  that  I  drew  them  out  and  tossed  them  away.  I 
was  as  weak  as  a  child. 

The  Captain  was  continually  moaning  for  water, 
while  we  followed  the  bed  of  the  ravine  to  the  sea 
shore.  Can  any  one  conceive  of  our  agony  at  this 
awful  moment  ?  Softly  the  moon's  rays  fell  on  the 
ocean  waves  in  sheets  of  silvery  radiance.  We  strug- 
gled to  the  beach,  and  rushing  into  the  salt  water, 
laid  there  in  a  delicious  trance.  What  was  death  to 
us  now  ?  The  ocean  refused  to  swallow  us,  as  wave 
upon  wave  threw  our  worn,  emaciated  forms  back  to 


64         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

the  strand.  We  drank  the  salt  water  until  we  were 
filled,  and  laved  our  parched  bodies  in  the  cool  liquid, 
remaining  for  some  time  in  the  water.  All  about  us 
was  as  still  as  death,  with  no  sound  save  that  of  the 
hoarse  rolling  of  the  surf,  that  dashed  in  fleecy  clouds 
on  the  hard,  shining  sand.  Thus  ended  the  sixth  day 
at  midnight. 

We  rested  on  the  beach  sand  until  dawn.  Sleep 
was  out  of  the  question.  We  were  fast  passing  the 
bounds  of  earthly  sleep  or  hunger,  but  the  demon  of 
thirst  had  us  in  his  iron  grip.  Oh,  what  would  we 
give  for  just  one  draught  of  water !  "  Water,  Water! 
for  God's  sake,"  was  our  piteous  moan.  We  could 
not  speak  ;  our  tongues  hung  swollen  and  black,  from 
our  mouths. 

0,  the  agony  of  thirst !  Faint,  bleeding,  and  de- 
spairing, we  struggled  on,  and  as  we  turned  a  corner 
of  the  beach,  the  wreck  lay  exposed  to  our  sight.  It 
was  all  of  five  miles  from  us.  Our  strength  was  gone  ; 
our  low  spirits  came  not  up,  as  we  looked  upon  the 
barque,  her  topsail  streaming  in  the  strong  wind. 
With  a  hollow  groan  I  sank  down  on  the  beach, 
moaning  in  agony.  The  Captain  staggered  a  few 
steps  farther,  and  with  his  hand  on  the  butt  of  his 
revolver,  sank  in  his  own  tracks,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
wreck  in  the  distance.  Had  we  sought  to  gain  our 
object  and  failed  in  sight  of  it  ?  Must  we  perish  here, 
after  struggling  so  hard  for  life  ?  The  bright  sun  paled 
in  the  sky  ;  all  grew  dark  about  me ;  1  was  in  a  death- 
like trance,  and  knew  no  more. 

How  long  I  remained  there  I  do  not  know,  but 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         65 

when  I  again  opened  my  eyes  I  was  lying  on  my  back, 
beside  the  Captain,  among  the  hills  of  sand.  A  sav- 
age, with  a  long  spear  in  his  hand,  having  some  of 
our  cotton  cloth  wrapped  about  his  body,  stood  before 
me.  His  woman  had  wet  my  mouth  with  water  from 
a  skin  bottle  which  she  carried.  The  Captain  was 
recovering,  and  after  much  difficulty  sat  up  and  made 
motions  to  the  natives.  Taking  eleven  pieces  of  gold, 
he  gave  them  to  the  savage,  and  pointed,  first  to  me, 
helpless  and  prostrate  on  the  sand,  then  to  the  hills 
lying  far  back  from  the  ocean.  The  natives  under- 
stood his  meaning,  and  after  giving  us  another  drink 
of  the  brackish  water,  disappeared  in  the  direction 
the  Captain  had  indicated,  followed  by  the  woman 
with  the  skin  of  water. 

We  remained  there  in  the  broiling  sun  until  late 
in  the  day,  when,  to  our  joy,  we  saw  our  two  lost 
companions  appear  before  us,  led  by  the  woman  who 
had  given  the  bottle  of  water  to  her  man,  he  having 
gone  farther  back  to  find  the  party  of  ladies,  the  mate 
and  the  seaman,  who  had  lain  down  to  die  when  we 
parted.  The  two  men  presented  a  wretched  sight. 
Power  of  articulation  was  gone,  and  the  thirsty  sand 
drank  eagerly  the  crimson  drops  that  trickled  from 
their  lacerated  feet.  We  laid  on  the  sand  and  drank 
water  that  the  woman  obtained  by  digging  in  the 
sand,  and  gave  to  us  in  little  shells.  We  were  but  a 
short  distance  back  from  the  beach,  and  of  course 
the  water  was  brackish. 

At  dusk  we  started  for  the  ship,  and  cut  our  feet 
badly  on  the  cuttle-fish  bones  that  lay  in  heaps  upon 


66         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

the  beach.  We  made  slow  progress,  but  neared  the 
camp  of  the  savages  just  after  midnight.  The  light 
of  the  moon  enabled  us  to  see  everything  clearly,  and 
the  tumult  in  the  tents  made  by  the  dusky  crowd  as 
we  approached,  was  trying  to  our  nerves ;  especially 
as  we  thought  that  they  might  despatch  us  there  on 
the  beach,  and  none  of  us  remain  to  tell  our  sor- 
rowful tale.  But  our  prospects  took  a  milder  turn. 
The  chief,  "  Ali,"  and  a  dozen  of  his  followers, 
kindly  assisted  us  along.  We  were  very  weak  and 
faint.  I  called  out  "  Agoa,  Agoa,"  —  the  native's 
word  for  water, —  and  soon  we  were  all  tasting  that 
which  we  had  brought  from  home,  and  procured 
by  the  natives  from  the  wreck.  Oh,  how  I  wanted 
to  gulp  down  the  pure  water,  but,  for  my  own  safety, 
was  obliged  to  take  it  only  in  small  quantities.  The 
Captain  and  Webster  both  had  cramps  and  spasms, 
caused  by  drinking  too  much. 

A  lot  of  cotton  cloth  made  us  a  bed,  and  we  slept 
till  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  the  next  day. 
That  noon  we  all  went  on  board  the  wreck,  and 
occupied  the  berths  in  the  forecastle.  The  cabin  was 
•  completely  gutted,  and  torn  to  pieces  ;  destruction  was 
on  very  hand.  As  I  was  bathing  my  swollen  limbs  in 
cool  water  that  afternoon,  I  saw  in  the  distance  a 
number  of  human  forms  approaching.  They  came 
slowly  nearer,  and  at  dusk^  we  recognized  them,  as 
the  party  we  had  left  behind  to  die.  Some  of  the 
natives,  headed  by  their  chief,  ran  to  welcome  them, 
and  placed  them  on  the  donkeys'  backs.  The  cook 
and  his  companions  were  not  there.     Poor  fellows ! 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life.         67 

we  have  had  no  story  of  their  fate.  The  ladies  and 
the  rest  of  that  party  soon  reached  the  shore,  and 
were  safely  placed  aboard.  Two  of  them  became 
crazy  when  they  drank  of  the  ship's  water.  The 
natives  lashed  the  frantic  men  to  the  ring-bolts  in  the 
deck,  and  watched  over  them  until  they  came  out  of 
their  horrible  agony.  The  hard,  rude  hearts  of  the 
natives  were  opened  by  our  miseries.  The  ladies  were 
placed  in  the  berths,  and  every  attention  shown  them. 
The  little  girl  seemed  torn  to  pieces  with  pain.  The 
mother  could  not  speak,  but  clung  to  her  daughter 
as  only  a  mother  can  twine  herself  about  one  she 
loves.  We  had  doubts  about  their  ever  becoming 
well  and  strong  again  ;  no  medicine,  no  pure  and 
nutritious  food,  no  fiour  or  bread  of  any  kind ;  noth- 
ing but  salt  beef,  tea  and  tobacco  could  we  find  on 
the  wreck ;  but  in  ten  days  time  the  ladies  appeared 
on  deck,  and  their  strength  gradually  returned  to 
them.  One  of  our  seamen  officiated  as  cook,  while  I 
hunted  for  food.  Bread  was  what  we  wanted,  but  I 
could  obtain  none. 

The  little  slave  girl,  young  and  full  of  life,  bore  up 
bravely,  under  all  her  sufferings.  Being  a  native  of 
Zanzibar,  she  was  not  injuriously  affected  by  the  cli- 
mate, as  were  the  remainder  of  our  party,  yet  she 
cried  with  joy  when  she  found  she  could  have  pure 
water  to  drink.  Throughout  all  our  sufferings  she 
clung  with  devotion  to  Madam  Mass  and  her  daugh- 
ter, doing  all  that  she  could  to  alleviate  their  misery. 

Dr.  Ray  seated  himself  on  the  edge  of  a  bunk,  and 
in  broad  Scotch  dialect,  declared  that  all  England 


68         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

could  not  send  him  again  on  so  perilous  a  voyage. 
The  loss  of  his  valuable  curiosities  and  his  experience 
thus  far  with  African  life,  had  combined  to  complete- 
ly destroy  all  his  ambition  to  become  an  explorer  of 
unknown  countries.  Could  he  put  his  feet  once 
more  on  the  brown  hills  of  Scotland,  he  would  stay 
there,  and  not  risk  his  bones  again  in  collecting  elec- 
tric eels  and  African  gold  for  the  scientific  men  at 
home  to  admire. 

The  natives  now  kept  away  from  us,  and  held 
consultations  on  the  beach  every  day.  They  were 
clothed  in  cotton  cloth  pillaged  from  the  barque,  and 
many  of  them  were  funny  looking  objects  indeed. 
They  were  rigged  out  in  all  kinds  of  clothing,  and 
made  a  grotesque  appearance,  as,  full  of  pride  over 
their  new  capture  and  captives,  they  strutted  on  the 
strand.  One  of  the  chiefs  had  on  a  lady's  skirt ;  an- 
other a  shawl,  and  over  that,  cloth  enough  to  make  a 
ship's  sail.  It  was  a  common  occurrence  to  witness 
two  natives  cut  open  with  their  daggers  a  bale  of  cloth, 
and  each  grasping  an  end  of  an  entire  piece  fasten  it 
to  his  body  and  whirl  round  with  a  rapidity  equalled 
only  by  the  motions  of  an  expert  dancer.  This  would 
continue  until  a  third  person  interfered,  and  with  one 
stroke  of  his  dagger  set  the  two  cotton-wound  natives 
free.  Both  would  then  run  away  in  high  glee,  and 
at  their  leisure  disrobe  themselves  of  thek*  plunder. 

The  twelfth  day  after  we  came  on  board  the  wreck, 
Jack  Trull  died,  lying  in  the  Captain's  arms.  We 
sewed  the  body  up  in  strong  canvas,  and  at  night, 
as  it  lay  on  the  deck,  I  stood  watch  over  it.     I  felt 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,         69 

very  uneasy,  at  best.  The  savages  were  at  work  un- 
der me,  tearing  the  sheets  of  copper  from  the  hull, 
and  I  expected  a  dagger  in  my  back  each  moment ;  but 
the  weary  night  wore  slowly  away,  and  the  next  day 
we  took  the  corpse  ashore  and  buried  it.  Dr.  Ray 
and  the  Captain  read,  with  great  trouble,  the  funeral 
service,  after  which  we  returned  sadly  to  the  fore- 
castle, feeling  our  own  weakness,  and  knowing  that 
our  lives  hung  on  a  slender  thread.  The  next  day 
we  visited  the  grave  of  Trull,  and  to  our  regret 
found  that  the  wild  dogs  had  dug  the  body  from  the 
grave,  torn  the  stout  canvas  in  pieces,  and  eaten 
a  portion  of  the  remains.  As  we  buried  it  anew, 
it  was  not  in  any  way  disturbed  again  ;  heavy  iron 
and  wood  keeping  off  all  intruding  "  coyoties "  or 
jackals.  Myself  and  three  others  were  taken  down 
with  dysentery,  but  by  pounding  the  ir9n  cable  and 
swallowing  the  rusty  flakes,  mixed  with  water,  we  re- 
covered. 

We  had  now  nearly  devoured  the  small  quantity 
of  food, and  skins  of  dirty  water  that  the  natives  had 
given  us.  The  hold  of  the  vessel  was  half  full  of 
sea  water,  and  going  down  into  it  one  day,  we  found, 
to  our  great  joy,  a  barrel  of  pork,  a  keg  of-  butter, 
and  a  small  bag  of  gold.  I  dived  three  or  four  times 
for  two  articles  that  I  spied  lying  on  the  bottom, 
and  brought  up  safely  a  can  of  oysters,  and  a  pine- 
apple cheese.  These  were  given  to  the  care  of  the 
ladies.  The  men  returned  to  the  labor  of  fishing 
up  the  pork  and  other  articles.  I  took  a  piece  of 
iron  and  struck  the  huge  tank  amidship,  and  to  our 


70         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

great  surprise  and  delight,  we  found  that  it  contained 
nearly  eleven  hundred  gallons  of  pure,  cool  water. 
If  tlie  savages  had  known  that  we  had  found  it, 
they  would  have  taken  it  away  from  us,  as  they  had 
the  water  in  the  casks  and  butts.  We  contrived  to 
draw  it  off,  and  hide  it  in  the  forecastle,  under  the 
ladies'  berths.  We  had  plenty  to  read,  smoke,  and 
drink,  and  we  really  began  to  feel  somewhat  happy. 

The  natives  gathered  in  circles  on  the  beach  each 
day,  debating  whether  to  kill  or  spare  us  for  a  ran- 
som. They  knew  something  of  the  value  of  money, 
and  were  continually  after  the  "  fluse,"  as  they  called 
the  specie.  We  covered  the  gold  with  butter,  and  it 
remained  on  the  floor  twenty  days,  the  savages  often 
walking  over  it,  yet  perfectly  ignorant  of  the  treasure 
upon  which  they  were  constantly  stumbling.  They 
seized  us  one  day  and  searched  our  bodies  for  hidden 
wealth,  but  found  none  upon  us.  I  began  to  pick  up 
their  rude  language,  and  before  I  left  the  wreck,  could 
ask  for  many  little  things.  They  kept  watch  of  all 
my  movements,  but  I  boldly  stole  from  them  articles 
of  clothing,  and  carried  them  to  my  fellow  sufferers. 
The  negro  women  often  threatened  me  with  the  long 
spears,  which  they  threw  with  great  dexterity  and 
precision,  and  I  narrowly  escaped  being  transfixed  by 
one,  that  measured  fifteen  feet  in  length,  and  at  an- 
other time  had  the  blade  of  a  dagger  laid  on  my  throat. 
I  closed  my  eyes,  and  expected  to  feel  the  long  sharp 
edge  cutting  through  my  jugular  vein,  but  the  Black 
devil  contented  himself  by  throwing  me  down  and 
tearing  from  my  waist  the  fancy  belt  I  wore  there. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.         71 

My  chest  was  broken,  and  lying  on  the  beach ;  my 
garments  were  trampled  in  the  sand  ;  a  full  barrel  of 
molasses  was  capsized  and  lost ;  the  boats  and  casks 
were  all  stove,  and  the  savages  were  boiling  rice  in 
our  kettles  with  the  wood  thus  obtained.  I  wondered 
how  they  lived  in  this  desolate  country,  and  before  I 
escaped  from  their  villainous  hands,  I  had  my  eyes 
well  opened  to  African  life.  The  men  among  them 
were  at  work  day  and  night,  stripping  the  wreck,  the 
younger  ones  carrying  the  plunder  up  among  the  sand 
hills,  and  the  women  loading  the  camels  and  donkeys 
with  everything  that  they  could  lift.  The  animals 
were  driven  away  in  a  westerly  direction,  accompa- 
nied by  girls  and  boys.  Only  the  older  persons  were 
allowed  to  wear  any  clothing.  The  young  people 
were  naked,  and  wore  no  ornaments  except  a  string 
of  amber  beads,  or  a  long  yellow  stick  run  through 
their  ears.  All  of  the  natives  were  covered  with  ver- 
min, which  they  soon  communicated  to  our  persons. 

Many  times  did  we  strain  our  eyes  to  catch  a  view 
of  a  passing  sail.  English  men-of-war  that  were  sent 
to  scour  the  coast,  we  never  saw.  And  as  our  arrival 
in  Aden  had  been  expected,  and  the  barque  not 
appearing,  great  anxiety  was  felt  for  our  safety.  The 
husband  of  Madam  Mass  had  chartered  a  vessel,  and 
manned  her  at  his  own  expense.  They  sailed  along 
the  Arabian  coast,  but  of  course  could  not  glean  any 
tidings  of  us,  for  we  were  eighty  miles  south  and 
west  of  Cape  Guardifui,  among  the  dreaded  tribes  of 
the  "  Soumaulies,"  the  most  warlike  and  cruel  on 
the  eastern  coast  of  Africa. 


72         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

The  chiefs  still  gathered  in  council,  and  their  weap- 
ons were  never  out  of  their  hands.  *  Were  they 
afraid  of  our  little  sickly  band,  or  had  the  saying 
"  dead  men  tell  no  tales,"  reached  them,  and  were 
they  about  to  test  its  truth  by  killing  us  and  sparing 
the  ladies  ?  Ah,  the  nature  of  these  men  is  not  like 
that  of  the  whites,  but  treachery,  malice,  hatred, 
cowardice  and  revenge  are  predominant  traits  in  the 
character  of  the  native  African.  The  hand  that  clasps 
your  own  in  the  greeting  of  "  Saub,  Saalm,  Saub," 
may  the  next  hour  be  reddened  with  your  life-blood. 
It  would  seem  that  nothing  but  the  bayonet  and  bul- 
let can  elevate  these  nations.  In  a  half-civilized  state 
of  mankind,  gentle  words  and  treatment  appear  to  be 
useless. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,        73 


CHAPTER   VII. 

The  Chief's  Watchfulness  —  The  Cook's  Queer  Barriers  of  Fat- 
Do  They  Mean  to  Starve  Us  —  Slavery  or  Death  —  Which  shall 
it  Be —  Our  Fate  Decided  by  a  Goat  —  Our  Ransom  Price  Fixed 
—  Our  Treatment  Changed  for  the  Better — The  March  Com- 
menced —  "  Old  Abdallah  "  —  Mahommedan  Prayers  —  Camel 
Train  Met  —  Green  Grass  Once  More  —  Arrival  at  the  Well  —  A 
Feast  of  Welcome  —  Preparations  to  Resume  Our  March  —  The 
African  Girls  Anxious  to  Rub  Noses  at  Parting  —  We  decline  the 
Honor  —  Five  Days  of  Marching  —  Our  Destination  in  View. 


HE  chief,  "All,"  was  a  large  man,  in  height 
over  six  feet,  and  as  strong  as  a  lion. 
His  second  in  command  was  very  tall  and 
slender.  These  chiefs  did  nothing  but  watch  our 
actions,  and  harangue  the  dusky  crowd  when  they 
left  their  labor  on  the  wreck.  They  cut  the  masts 
away  close  to  the  deck,  after  three  days  of  hard  labor, 
and  this  being  done,  it  was  no  wonder  that  the  "  Lady 
Elgin,"  and  other  cruisers  did  not  discover  us  ;  the 
savages  were  shrewd  on  that  point.  The  falling 
spars  struck  some  of  the  natives,  busily  engaged  in 
pillaging,  and  as  they  were  dragged  from  the  rubbish, 
their  companions  began  to  belabor  them  with  clubs, 
and  rub  sand  in  their  gaping  wounds,  a  form  of 
"  medical  treatment "  which  would  not  prove  very 
acceptable  to  white  men. 

The  tumult  they  made  was  deafening  to  our  ears, 
and  we  felt  relieved  when  it  subsided.  Soon  they  were 


74         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

again  at  work  demolishing  the  wreck.  They  even  tried 
to  take  the  few  pans  and  kettles  we  had  in  the  galley, 
but  our  new  cook,  takuig  advantage  of  their  super- 
stitious dread  of  grease,  hung  up  fat  pork  all  about 
the  place,  thus  keeping  the  dusky  crowd  outside  of 
his  dominions.  They  threatened  to  kill  him  if  he  did 
not  deliver  up  the  articles,  but,  safe  behind  the  oddly 
constructed  barrier  he  had  planned,  he  laughed  at 
their  efforts  to  dislodge  him.  Our  Captain  appearing 
on  deck  just  at  this  time,  the  bright  buckle  of  his 
waist-belt  caught  their  sight,  and  he  would  have  lost 
the  bauble,  or  his  life,  had  he  not  seized  a  piece  of  raw 
pork,  and  rubbed  it  on  the  glittering  buckle. 

We  had  now  been  on  the  wreck  twenty-three  days, 
and  were  getting  tired  of  such  wild  proceedings.  We 
saw  that  the  negroes  intended  to  starve  and  worry  us 
to  death  without  killing  us  outright.  To  become  the 
victims  of  such  a  lingering  torture  was  what  we  most 
dreaded,  and  we  regretted  that  our  lives  had  been 
spared  thus  long  only  to  meet  with  so  diabolical  an 
end.  A  lingering,  starving  captivity  is  horrible.  Can 
human  beings  have  the  heart  to  inflict  such  cruelties 
on  one  another?  No.  They  are  devils  in  the  human 
shape.  We  shudder  at  the  fearful  outrages  that  the 
spirit  of  the  arch-fiend,  encased  in  the  form  of  man, 
can  impose  on  his  helpless  captive. 

We  were  now  all  weak  and  sick ;  the  very  monkeys 
died  of  starvation.  Birdseed,  tea,  pork,  and  water 
formed  our  every  day  ration.  Our  condition  was 
daily  becoming  more  and  more  dreadful.  The  boat 
of  the  French  ship  lay  on  the  sand,  about  a  mile  off. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.         75 

"We  tried  to  get  it  to  the  sea,  weak  as  we  were,  but 
the  savages  with  poised  weapons  drove  us  back  to  our 
place  of  refuge,  and  then  hauled  the  clumsy  boat  far 
up  among  the  sand  hills.  All  hope  of  escape  in  that 
direction  was  thus  cut  off  and  abandoned.  We  prayed 
and  hoped  for  a  cruiser  to  show  her  white  sails  in  the 
offing ;  but  none  appeared. 

The  barque  was  now  completely  stripped,  and  the 
savages  held  their  noisy  councils  on  the  beach  every 
day.  They  always  had  a  black  and  a  white  goat  with 
them,  and  we  understood  that  if  they  led  the  black 
goat  from  the  circle,  it  was  all  over  in  this  world  with 
the  male  portion  of  our  party.  Being  thus  subject  to 
the  caprice  of  four  hundred  natives,  debating  for  so 
long  a  time  on  our  fate,  was  torture  to  us.  At  length, 
after  many  more  days  of  jabbering  and  manoeuvering, 
they  led  the  white  goat  from  the  ring  and  threw  it 
on  the  deck  of  the  barque.  A  few  natives  followed, 
who  killed  and  dressed  it  before  our  eyes,  then  cut  up 
the  meat  and  gave  it  to  our  cook,  taking  care  to  keep 
clear  of  the  pieces  of  fat  pork  that  kept  guard  over 
the  galley.  The  voice  and  arm  of  the  chief  "  Ali," 
had  carried  the  day ;  we  were  to  be  ransomed  for  a 
large  amount  of  money  and  a  new  sword  for  each 
petty  chief.  These  terms  were  ratified  by  our  Cap- 
tain, as  soon  as  he  could  comprehend  the  state  of  af- 
fairs and  what  was  wanted. 

The  manner  of  the  savages  soon  changed  towards 
us.  Formerly  they  kept  aloof,  and  were  ready  to 
put  us  out  of  the  way  at  any  moment.  Now,  tliey 
brought  us  sugar,    rice,  clothing,  and   shoes ;    also, 


76         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

boxes  of  cigars  and  handkerchiefs.  Madam  Mass 
had  her  black  dresses  and  shawls  returned  to  her. 
They  urged  us  to  eat  the  well-cooked  meat  of  the 
goat,  and  kept  about  all  that  day,  almost  burthening 
us  with  their  attentions  to  our  wants.  Such  a  turn 
of  affairs  astonished  us,  and  made  us  so  happy  that 
we  cried  with  joy.  We  knew  we  were  soon  to  leave 
the  wreck  which  had  become  to  us  a  prison,  and 
commence  our  march  for  the  natives'  settlement. 

No  rain  had  fallen  in  this  part  of  the  country  for 
four  months,  and  was  not  likely  to,  for  months  to 
come.  We  knew  we  should  have  hot  and  tedious 
travelling  to  undergo,  but  anything  was  better  than 
staying  where  we  were.  We  expected  to  suffer  from 
want  of  water,  and  it  might  be  from  many  other  causes, 
but  we  must  go  on  to  our  deliverance.  The  savages 
left  the  barque  at  sunset,  and  we  went  to  work  mak- 
ing canvas  belts  in  which  to  conceal  our  gold,  while 
the  ladies  kept  watch  at  the  companion  way  to  warn  us 
should  any  native  approach.  We  soon  had  the  gold 
sewed  up  in  the  belts,  and  lashed  snugly  under  our 
armpits  and  about  our  waists.  The  ladies  also  re- 
ceived their  share,  which  they  carefully  hid.  We  ran 
a  great  risk  in  doing  this,  for  had  the  chiefs  by  any 
chance  learned  of  our  efforts  to  retain  the  gold,  there 
would  have  been  no  bounds  to  their  rage  ;  but  for 
once,  good  luck  was  on  our  side,  as  they  did  not 
search  us  after  we  left  the  wreck. 

We  were  allowed  one  more  day  of  rest ;  the  next 
morning  the  natives  came  and  assisted  our  party  to 
the  beach.     We  went  first  to  the  encampment,  where 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         77 

a  scene  of  the  utmost  confusion  was  presented  to  us. 
I  never  shall  forget  the  sight;  such  destruction  of 
property  I  never  beheld.  All  of  the  barqile's  furni- 
ture was  smashed  to  pieces  ;  clothing,  flour,  sugar, 
and  apparel  lay  trodden  in  the  sand  ;  the  bare  hull  of 
our  floating  home  was  fast  bnrying  itself  in  the  shift- 
ing sand,  and  the  paint  was  turned  white  by  the  salt 
spray  that  had  dried  where  it  had  fallen,  and  encrust- 
ed the  well-modelled  hull.  Tears  filled  our  eyes  as  we 
took  a  long,  farewell  look  at  our  once  beautiful  vessel, 
and  followed  our  guide  among  the  hills  which  were  a 
short  distance  behind  the  encampment.  This  guide 
was  a  man  whom  we  christened^  "  Old  Abdallah,"  as 
soon  as  he  joined  us.  He  was  advanced  in  years,  and 
the  only  native  who  was  to  accompany  us  on  our  weary 
march.  We  struck  off  on  a  well-beaten  path,  and  in  a 
few  hours'  time  came  to  the  edge  of  a  wide  lake  extend- 
ing miles  across  the  land.  I  thought  that  our  travel 
here  would  end,  but  the  trail  we  were  on  led  through 
the  lake.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  "  Old  Ab- 
dallah "  waded  into  the  water  which  came  nearly  to  his 
knees,  and  held  that  depth  the  whole  way  across,  with 
a  hard,  sandy  bottom.  It  was  the  hardest  wading  and 
walking  we  experienced  on  the  whole  route.  The 
declining  sun  shone  in  our  faces  before  we  reached  the 
opposite  shore,  where,  on  the  dry,  hot  sand,  our  guide 
prostrated  himself  and  went  through  his  prayers  with 
great  earnestness,  showing  how  firmly  and  truly  he 
believed  in  the  rude  forms  of  the  religion  he  professed. 
Here  we  had  our  supper  of  cooked  rice  and  pork, 
and  after  a  long,  quiet  smoke  and  earnest  talk,  fell  to 


78         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

sleep  on  the  sand.  The  guide  had  rations  of  his 
own ;  he  ate  only  a  morsel,  then,  with  a  piece  of 
cotton  tied  over  his  head,  laid  down  near  us  and  was 
soon  asleep. 

The  whole  party  slept  soundly  that  night.  At 
break  of  day  we  were  aroused  by  hearing  the  old  guide 
chanting  his  prayer.  This  led  us  to  suppose  that 
he  was  a  Mohammedan  devotee,  for  the  other  natives 
had  never  to  our  knowledge  indulged  in  such  acts  of 
devotion.  We  disposed  of  our  meal  before  the  guide 
had  finished  his  prayer,  and  patiently  awaited  his 
movements.  He  took  his  morsel  of  rice  at  a  single 
swallow,  and  started  off  on  the  old  path,  while  we 
q^iickly  followed  his  footsteps.  Thus,  day  after  day, 
we  travelled  over  the  hot  barren  waste,  under  the 
blazing  heat  of  a  tropical  sun,  until  each  seemed 
ready  to  sink  exhausted  to  the  earth.  The  water  we 
carried  in  skins  began  to  fail ;  the  rice  was  almost 
gone ;  the  pork  was  full  of  sand,  and  gritted  on  the 
teeth  when  we  ate  the  greasy  morsel.  There  was 
nothing  to  cheer  the  eye ;  it  was  all  a  waste  of  sand 
behind,  a  sea  of  sand  before.  Still  the  guide  kept 
straight  on,  seeming  not  to  care  for  heat  or  hunger, 
and  to  our  anxious  inquiry,  only  waved  his  hand  to 
indicate  that  we  were  to  go  ahead  —  how  far  we 
knew  not. 

Our  little  party  was  fast  failing,  and  slept  heavier 
each  returning  night.  Madam  Mass,  as  she  laid 
down,  drew  her  pale  little  daughter  to  her  breast,  ut- 
tering no  cry,  shedding  no  tears  ;  it  was  useless,  for 
there  was  something  in  her  heart  that  checked  all 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         79 

expressions  of  emotion.  The  sixth  day  in  the  des- 
ert, we  beheld  a  cloud  swiftly  advancing,  and  in  a 
few  moments  saw  that  it  was  the  dry  dust  raised  by 
the  feet  of  camels,  approaching  us  at  a  rapid  pace. 
They  passed  us  at  a  good  trot,  laden  with  plunder, 
and  managed  by  young  women.  The  last ''  ship  of  the 
desert,"  as  the  camel  has  been  called,  halted  when  it 
reached  our  party.  A  young  girl  jumped  from  the 
camel's  back,  and  threw  two  skins  full  of  water  to  us ; 
also  a  large  bag  of  raw  rice.  We  drank  of  the  water 
until  all  were  abundantly  satisfied,  and  the  skin  went 
back  to  the  girl's  hands  empty.  This  was  the  water 
camel,  and  there  were  full  skins  still  lashed  to  his 
pack  and  hump.  The  girl  exchanged  a  few  grunts 
and  words  with  our  guide,  mounted  without  assist- 
ance to  the  hump  of  the  animal,  and  slapping  him  on 
the  neck,  hastened  along  after  her  wild  companions. 
She  soon  reached  them,  and  all  were  quickly  out  of 
sight,  going  over  the  sea  of  sand  as  though  they  had 
a  compass  to  direct  them. 

The  next  day  the  guide  gave  out  a  glad  cry.  We 
looked  in  the  direction  in  which  he  pointed,  and  saw  a 
line  of  hills  rising  above  the  sand.  They  were  scarcely 
visible  to  us,  but  plainly  seen  by  his  accustomed  eye. 
We  could  tell,  by  the  way  in  which  he  laid  his  head 
on  his  hand,  that  there  we  should  soon  find  rest. 
"  Margi  ?"  I  asked.  He  nodded.  "  Agoa,"  I  added. 
He  nodded  in  the  same  way.  *'  All  right,"  cried 
I,  "  with  food,  water  and  rest,  we  will  be  content." 
The  mate  laughed  at  my  capers,  and  said  testily  : 

"  Why  do  you  care  about  the  old  fool  ?  he  has  led 
us  out  here  to  die,  I  suppose." 


80         Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life, 

"  Recollect,  sir,"  said  I,  "  if  he  deserts  us  we  are 
all  gone  up ;  he  is  our  only  hope  for  a  safe  journey 
to  the  natives'  town." 

"Well,"  cried  he,  "  if  ever  I  come  again  to  this 
God-forsaken  country,  I  hope  to  be  cooked  alive  by 
the  black  tormentors  who  are  masters  of  this  fire- 
place." 

"  Don't  let  us  crow  until  we  are  out  of  the  woods," 
I  replied.  "  One  thing  is  as  sure  as  a  gun,  we'll 
know  enough  not  to  handle  hot  iron  a  second  time." 

"  But  blast  me  if  I  can  see  any  '  woods.'  If  I 
could  only  put  my  eye  on  a  down-east  pine  tree,  I  'd 
die  happy  ;  but  out  here  in  this  old  hole  — "  then, 
addressing  old  Abdallah — "  Say,  old  moke,  what 
time  does  this  train  start  for  Bangor?  —  He  don't 
know  anything ;  he's  worse  than  a  white  pine  dog." 

The  men  laughed  at  this  last  sally,  and  faces  that 
had  been  sober  and  wan  for  many  a  day,  beamed 
with  new  hope.  Old  Abdallah  quickened  his  steps  a 
little,  just  enough  to  keep  well  ahead.  That  night 
we  were  ten  miles  nearer  the  hills,  and  our  spirits 
rose  when  we  thought  of  once  more  seeing  green 
grass  and  pure  running  water.  As  we  lay  in  the 
sand  we  heard  a  strange  noise.  It  came  from  the 
direction  of  the  hills,  and  soon  we  heard  camels  and 
natives  approaching.  Old  Abdallah  hailed  them,  and 
they  came  near  to  us.  The  company,  consisting  of 
nine  camels  and  their  drivers,  halted,  and  the  men 
dismounted  from  the  humps.  They  had  not  seen 
the  shipwrecked  party,  and  took  a  long  stare  at  us 
in  the  partial  darkness,  then  nimbly  mounting,  and 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         81 

crying  "Hah,  Kah  Hah,"  to  the  ungainly  animals, 
kept  on  the  same  track  we  had  travelled.  At  the 
end  of  another  day  of  hard  travelling  we  reached 
the  sand  hills.  The  sight  of  the  dry,  dead  grass,  was 
welcome  to  our  eyes,  and  as  we  kept  on  our  way,  the 
tufts  began  to  look  brighter  and  more  refreshing. 
As  the  night  settled  down,  we  ate  our  share  of  the 
scanty  rations,  and  laid  down  on  a  bed  of  dry  grass. 
It  was  indeed  to  us  pleasant  to  arise  in  the  morning 
and  find  our  heads  and  bodies  free  of  sand.  Our  path 
led  among  low  hills  that  the  short,  dead  trees  seemed 
to  cover.  These  trees  were  of  many  kinds,  all  small, 
withered,  and  covered  with  thorns  and  prickles.  Just 
ahead  of  us  ran  a  long  ridge  of  high  hills,  reaching  the 
summit  of  which,  we  gazed  down  on  the  plain  below, 
where  vast  groves  of  trees,  clad  in  living  green,  and 
the  huts  of  the  natives  peeping  out  from  the  tough 
and  twisted  branches,  greeted  our  vision.  Down  the 
hill  we  went,  and  in  less  than  an  hour's  time,  were 
crawling  under  the  short  trees,  and  parting  with  our 
hands  bushes  of  many-colored  flowers  and  the  vines 
that  stood  in  our  way. 

Ahead  of  us  were  a  number  of  naked  girls  dipping 
water  from  a  large  sand  hole,  and  bearing  it  away  in 
leathern  bottles,  to  their  little  huts  in  the  shade  of  the 
groves.  They  ran  to  us  with  glad  cries,  and  then  ran 
away  from  us,  as  though  they  were  afraid  we  would 
capture  them.  Abdallah  rushed  to  the  spring  and 
filled  his  water  bottle  ;  then  washing  himself  with  the 
water  thus  obtained,  took  a  long  drink,  and  fell  to 
praying  with  great  zeal  and  fervor.  The  black  girls 
6 


82         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

were  soon  engaged  in  bathing  the  heads  and  limbs  of 
the  ladies,  and  then  running  to  us  refreshed  us  with 
long  draughts  of  cool  water.  They  permitted  us  to 
drink  all  we  wanted,  for  which  we  felt  grateful,  and 
then  throwing  ourselves  under  the  cool,  dry  shade  of 
the  overhanging  boughs,  we  speculated  upon  our  fu- 
ture prospects.  A  camel  was  led  out  in  front  of  us, 
and  made  to  kneel  as  though  he  was  to  receive  a  load  ; 
the  men  gathered  around  and  held  a  curious  cere- 
mony over  him,  keeping  his  head  pointed  in  an  east- 
erly direction.  The  butcher  then  stepped  to  the  ani- 
mal's head,  and  drew  his  long  dagger  across  the  poor 
brute's  throat,  at  the  same  time  bending  the  head  back 
on  the  hump.  The  hot  blood  gushed  in  a  stream 
to  the  thirsty  sand.  The  neck  was  severed  from  the 
body,  and  laid  on  the  ground  ;  the  body  still  retaining 
its  position,  bled  for  five  minutes  or  more,  after  which 
the  carcass  was  dressed  in  quick  time,  the  hind  quar- 
ters given  to  us,  and  the  stomach  saved  as  a  royal 
dish  for  the  great  man  of  the  tribe.  We  soon  had 
fires  on  the  sand,  and  the  meat,  by  being  held  over  the 
blaze  was  about  half  cooked,  and  when  eaten  form- 
ing something  of  a  barbacue  for  us.  This  feast  of 
welcome  was  followed  by  the  young  girls  bringing  to 
us  little  rice  cakes  spread  with  sugar.  I  knew  this 
fine  reception  would  soon  play  itself  out,  but  some 
of  the  men  thought  we  had  arrived  in  a  land  of 
milk  and  honey,  and  expected  to  live  high,  and  have 
no  more  hunger  nor  suffering. 

Two  months  were  almost   gone,  and   we  saw   no 
chance  of  leaving  the  country,  yet  our  time  of  de- 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,         83 

parture  was  near  at  hand.  The  chief  had  a  motive 
power  in  old  Abdallah,  and  in  four  day's  time  he  ap- 
peared before  \is,  clad  in  gay-colored  garments  twined 
around  his  body  and  head,  the  ends  hanging  down 
and  flying  in  the  breeze.  Long  spears  were  in  his 
hand,  and  a  water  bottle  slung  about  his  neck.  Cam- 
els and  donkeys,  laden  with  plunder,  were  formed  in 
a  line  of  march,  and  tiny  flags  fluttered  from  the 
spear  heads  that  were  thrust  into  the  loads.  The 
warriors  slung  their  weapons  and  shields  over  their 
shoulders,  and  slapped  us  familiarly  on  the  back,  while 
the  war  drum,  borne  by  two  huge  negroes,  preced- 
ed the  party,  and  thundered  its  noise  over  the  land. 
The  young  ladies  of  color  were  anxious  to  rub  their 
flat  noses  against  our  own,  a  custom  of  theirs  corre- 
sponding to  shaking  hands  at  home,  but  as  the  bill 
of  fare  had  been  reduced  to  rice  and  water,  we  evad- 
ed the  parting  blessing.  After  all  the  preliminaries 
had  been  faithfully  performed,  we  started  once  more, 
and  as  the  little  caravan  left  the  settlement  far  in  the 
rear,  the  drum  was  hushed,  and  in  quietness  we  plod- 
ded on  our  way.  After  five  days  of  weary  marching, 
through  high  and  low  land,  well  wooded  with  short 
trees  and  creeping  vines,  we  gazed  on  our  future 
prison.     "  Ras-ha-foon  "  was  in  sight. 


84         Seve7i  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 


CHAPTER   YIII. 

Reception  at  the  Natives'  Town —  Our  Prison  — The  Savages  mis- 
take Epsom  Salts  for  Sugar  —  Walking  Skeletons — Our  Partial 
Blindness — The  Seide  Boys  —  The  Fishermen's  Village  —  Jus- 
tice as  Administered  by  Barbarians  —  The  African  at  Home  — 
Our  Pitiable  Condition  —  A  Proposition  Accepted  —  Yankee  In- 
genuity Tested  —  A  Midnight  Banquet  —  Ready  for  Departure  — 
A  Strong  Guard  over  us  —  Off. 


N  we  went  through  the  low  grass  and  sand, 
^.^^^  until  we  arrived  within  two  miles  of  the  town. 
^*^>^^  The  caravan  was  formed  anew,  and  every- 
thing put  into  shape.  The  two  drummers  bearing 
a  hollow  log,  covered  with  skin  tightly  drawn,  and 
with  heavy  clubs  in  their  disengaged  hands,  were  fast 
striding  ahead.  The  town  soon  presented  itself  to 
our  view  in  its  true  and  native  aspect.  A  large  hut 
for  the  chief,  and  an  unfinished  place  of  worship,  were 
the  two  prominent  objects  that  attracted  our  attention. 
The  low,  mat-covered  huts  of  the  natives  were  next 
seen,  then  the  huts  of  the  fishermen,  but  what  pleased 
us  most,  was  the  sight  of  a  large  boat,  hauled  up  on 
the  sand-hills.  There  was  old  ocean  far  in  the  dis- 
tance, the  water  like  a  long,  blue  ribbon,  stretching  in 
shining  lengths  along  the  high  and  rocky  coast,  with 
high  mountains  on  either  hand,  dry  and  barren.  The 
drum  opened  its  loud  and  rude  music ;  the  natives 
chanted  their  wild  songs  and  flourished  their  lofig 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         85 

spears,  with  red  flags  flying.  A  crowd  of  natives  were 
seen  running  to  us,  armed  with  every  kind  of  barbaric 
weapon,  from  the  long,  sharp-toothed  jaw  of  the  saw- 
fish, to  the  sling  and  shield ;  while  many  had  guns 
and  swords.  With  cries  of  joy  they  leaped  around 
the  slowly  moving  company,  and  began  one  of  their 
regular  war  dances.  The  people  of  the  caravan 
joined  in  the  hilarity  of  their  friends,  and  mirth  was 
in  the  ascendant.  Every  time  they  came  to  the  end 
of  a  line,  or  chant,  they  all  shouted,  "  Wy-yal,"  with 
all  the  power  of  human  lungs. 

Our  men  laughed  at  the  queer  antics  they  cut,  but 
the  mirth  on  our  part  was  checked,  when  we  arrived 
at  a  large  hut,  built  of  rough  timber,  mud,  and  grass. 
Into  this  hut  the  ladies  were  conducted,  and  allowed 
to  occupy  a  small,  but  comfortal)le  apartment.  But 
the  natives  thrust  us  into  a  room  about  twelve  feet 
square,  rough  in  finish,  with  a  hard  clay  floor  to  lie 
upon.  They  shut  us  in,  but  as  there  were  loop  holes 
through  the  mud  wall,  we  could  see  all  that  transpired 
outside.  We  saw  enough  to  make  our  blood  boil  with 
rage.  The  savages  had  plenty  of  sugar,  rice,  flour, 
biscuit,  cans  of  meat,  and  the  little  extras  I  had 
with  me  in  the  cabin,  and  were  having  a  grand  blow- 
out. They  wasted  the  flour  and  sugar,  while  taking 
it  out  in  handfulls.  But  one  thing  pleased  me,  —  it 
was  to  see  some  of  the  party  fall  upon  a  small  firkin 
of  Epsom  salts,  and  become  pretty  well  dosed.  Bun- 
dles of  mats  were  unrolled,  and  thus  disclosed  bottles 
of  wine.  Boxes  of  cigars.  Dr.  Ray's  specimen  chest, 
flannel  shirts,  lumps  of  tobacco,  dresses,  boots,  and 


86         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

last  of  all,  the  ship's  instruments,  were  unpacked 
and  roughly  handled  by  these  barbarians. 

Our  rations,  consisting  of  camel's  meat  and  rice, 
were  passed  to  us.  For  three  long  weary  weeks  we 
were  confined  in  that  room,  fed  on  rice  and  water, 
with  now  and  then  a  cake  of  hungee-gungee  or  mil- 
let, mixed  with  water,  and  baked  by  the  sun.  At 
length  they  gave  us  permission  to  run  at  large,  and 
cook  our  own  rice,  in  an  old  iron  pot  that  they  threw 
out  to  us.  We  were  fast  approaching  the  condition 
of  walking  skeletons.  When  we  arose,  after  lying 
down  a  few  hours,  we  were  blind,  and  were  obliged 
to  wait  considerable  time  for  the  blindness  to  pass 
away.  We  were  also  bleeding  from  the  attacks  of 
vermin  and  bites  of  sand  flies,  and  at  night  as  we  laid 
down,  the  long  gray  lizzard,  so  peculiar  to  this  climate 
and  place,  crawled  over  our  faces  and  hands.  0,  how 
the  men  swore  at  the  terrible  trials  they  were  passing 
through.  No  wonder  they  said,  "  If  ever  God  spares 
us  to  get  out  of  this,  we  '11  keep  from  this  coast  for- 
ever, and  tell  others  to  steer  clear  of  the  Soumalies." 
Strong  men  wept  and  prayed,  and  were  helpless.  Our 
clothes  were  torn  and  dirty,  and  sleeping  on  the  bare 
clay,  afforded  an  excellent  opportunity  for  the  vermin 
to  travel  over  our  bodies. 

I  now  took  the  liberty  of  going  about  the  settle- 
ment, and  of  learning  all  I  could  for  our  welfare.  I 
wandered  off  alone  to  the  "  Seide "  boys  village  of 
fishermen.  They  were  the  largest,  strongest,  and 
blackest  negroes  I  ever  saw,  —  a  peaceful  tribe,  pass- 
ing their  time  in  catching  the  saw-fish  and  shark  for 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,         87 

a  living.  In  their  crazy  old  boats,  that  leaked  at  a 
rapid  rate,  they  boldly  met  the  voracious  monsters  of 
the  deep,  and  in  nearly  every  instance  brought  them 
to  the  land.  This  little  fishing  village  lies  about 
twenty  miles  southwest  of  Cape  Guardafui,  and  is 
concealed  from  sight  of  the  ocean  by  a  high,  rocky 
mountain  ;  but  standing  at  a  point  near  the  village, 
the  ocean  can  be  seen  to  the  south  and  east,  stretch- 
ing far  away.  A  number  of  saw-fish  saws  were  on 
large  frames,  drying  in  the  sun.  Some  of  them  meas- 
ured five  feet  in  length.  I  had  a  grand  opportunity 
to  study  the  habits  and  manners  of  these  fishermen, 
and  was  always  well  treated  by  them  when  I  entered 
their  huts. 

We  kept  our  specie  safe  around  our  bodies,  and 
fortunately  we  were  never  examined.  We  had  seen 
none  of  the  money  taken  by  the  natives  from  our 
vessel  since  we  arrived  at  Ras-ha-foon.  At  length 
the  chief,  "  Ali,"  came  from  the  wreck  with  the  re- 
mainder of  the  plunder,  and  five  negro  captives.  It 
appeared  that  some  of  his  own  tribe  stole  about  three 
thousand  dollars  of  the  barque's  specie,  and  buried 
it  among  the  hills.  The  chief  found  out  the  thieves 
and  money,  dug  up  the  cash,  and  fell  upon  the  party 
when  they  came  to  recover  their  treasure.  The  chief 
and  his  followers  slaughtered  all  but  five  of  the 
thieves,  and  brought  the  specie  and  the  remaining 
plunder  and  captives,  to  his  village,  Avhere  the  five 
men,  who  had  often  followed  him  on  the  war  path, 
were  sold  into  slavery  for  life. 

The  Arabs  buy  slaves  of  the  Soumaulies  every  time 


88         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

they  come  from  a  victorious  contest.  When  the  wild 
"  Wyhauless  "  and  Abysinian  tribes  meet  the  Soum- 
anlies,  a  terrible  battle  ensues;  but  the  last  named 
tribe,  being  "  fighting  men,"  generally  gain  the  vic- 
tory. I  saw  that  the  women  performed  most  of  the 
hard  work,  and  were  perfect  slaves  to  the  men,  who 
had  as  many  wives  as  they  wished.  The  chief  *'  Ali  " 
had  nine  women  in  one  room,  and  a  number  of  boys 
and  girls.  These  formed  his  "  family."  Two  of  his 
daughters  could  handle  any  three  men  in  the  tribe, 
and  drive  the  long  "  assegie  "  or  spear  through  the 
round  bull's-hide  shield  at  thirty  paces.  Human  life 
is  held  by  them  in  light  esteem,  and  a  captor  may  at 
any  moment  dash  out  his  captive's  brains. 

We  could  not  get  any  clothes,  or  cloth  to  make 
them  of,  and  had  to  wear  the  foul  rags  that  for  so 
long  a  time  had  been  our  only  covering.  We  were 
reaching  again  a  fearful  climax,  when  we  turned 
our  attention  to  the  large  dow,  or  boat,  that  lay  high 
and  dry  on  the  sand.  We  coaxed  the  chief  to  let  us 
launch  it,  and  after  many  days  he  gave  his  consent. 
It  was  a  mighty  job  for  us  poor  wretches  to  get  that 
heavy  boat  to  the  water.  But  our  ingenuity  and 
tenacity  of  life  conquered  all  obstacles,  and  in  three 
weeks'  time  the  dow  was  caulked,  launched,  and  rig- 
ged, and  lay  off  the  shore  tugging  at  the  line  that 
moored  her.  We  were  patient  in  all  our  sufferings 
and  privations  during  the  time  we  were  at  work  on 
the  boat.  We  were  all  emaciated  and  worn  down 
with  fatigue,  our  hair  long  and  full  of  vermin,  our 
bodies  full  of  pain,  and  our  hearts  full  of  hope  one 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         89 

day  and  despair  the  next.  What  if  the  chief  should 
still  hold  us  prisoners,  and  not  take  us  away  from 
Ras-ha-foon.  We  could  not  rise  on  our  persecutors 
and  escape  in  the  boat,  for  we  were  closely  watched 
by  the  savages  when  they  were  awake,  and  when 
they  slept  they  did  so  with  their  weapons  in  their 
hands,  ready  to  overpower  us  if  we  made  an  attempt 
to  free  ourselves.  We  now  had  had  seventy  days' 
experience  among  the  African  tribes  since  the  wreck 
of  our  barque,  and  were  quite  willing  to  bring  it  to 
an  end. 

The  chief  after  much  palaver  and  many  signs,  gave 
us  to  understand  that  he  would  take  us  away  in 
the  boat,  if  the  Captain  would  promise  him  seven- 
teen thousand  dollars  more.  This  modest  request 
was  granted,  it  being  understood  that  the  chief  was 
to  have  the  money  as  soon  as  the  party  were  landed 
safe  among  civilized  people.  We  were  glad  to  es- 
cape on  any  terms,  yet  kept  our  smiles  at  the  credu- 
lity of  our  captors  concealed  from  the  old  chief,  for 
fear  he  might  distrust  us.  That  night  we  were  led 
outside  of  the  mud  palace,  and  found  plenty  of  meat, 
dates,  rice  cakes,  and  pieces  of  salted  shark,  spread 
before  us.  The  chief  pointed  to  the  food,  and  like 
ravenous  dogs  we  immediately  ate  our  fill.  Oh,  how 
good  it  tasted  to  our  dry  palates,  and  how  it  aston- 
ished our  weak  stomachs.  The  natives  stood  around, 
spears  in  hand,  and  watched  us  as  we  devoured  the 
food  they  had  prepared.  We  cared  not  whether  it 
was  camel,  dog,  or  sheep,  so  long  as  it  satisfied  our 
terrible  hunger.     This  feast  was  kept  up  till  daylight. 


90         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

Large  fires  were  built  and  meat  roasted.  The  na- 
tives also  had  a  feast.  The  scene  was  curious  to  be- 
hold ;  they  first  danced  into  the  hot,  red  glare  of  the 
fire,  then  disappeared  in  the  gloom.  This  was  kept  up 
until  the  dancers  reeled  off  to  their  huts,  completely 
tired  out  with  their  exertions. 

At  daylight  the  whole  population,  numbering  about 
six  hundred,  accompanied  us  to  the  beach,  and  once 
more,  after  all  our  round-about  wanderings,  we 
could  smell  the  salt  breeze  from  the  ocean.  Seven 
well-armed  natives  went  to  the  dow  first,  then  the 
ladies  were  boated  off  safely.  Our  little  party  fol- 
lowed ;  then  seven  more  well-armed  men,  and  the 
chief  Ali.  The  ladies,  the  Captain,  and  Dr.  Ray  were 
taken  aft,  and  the  rest  of  us  placed  forward  of  the 
mast.  The  hold  of  the  dow  was  filled  with  copper, 
cotton,  tobacco,  and  iron.  Strongly  guarded  as  we 
were,  the  chief  thought  there  was  not  enough,  there- 
fore he  had  all  of  his  sons,  well-armed,  taken  aboard. 
The  sail  was  hoisted,  the  moorings  slipped,  and  with 
wild  yells  of  the  savages  on  shore  in  token  of  our 
departure,  the  dow  glided  like  a  shadow  away  from 
the  cursed  land.  At  this  juncture  we  agreed  among 
ourselves  to  rise  on  the  crew,  throw  them  overboard, 
and  steer  for  Aden,  improving  the  very  first  oppor- 
tunity that  presented  itself  for  so  doing. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,         91 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Our  Boat  and  Companions  —  One  of  the  Natives  Overboard  —  The 
"  Stars  and  Stripes  "  in  Sight  —  Delusive  Hopes  —  On  the  Red 
Sea  —  Arabia  near  at  Hand  —  Mocolo  —  In  the  Harbor  —  Old  AH 
caught  in  his  own  Trap  —  He  gets  the  Worst  of  the  Bargain  and 
Hurries  off  to  save  his  Life  —  Kindness  of  the  Sultan  —  All  our 
Wants  Supplied — We  begin  to  Feel  like  Men — Sights  and 
Sounds  at  Moloco. 


HE  boat  in  which  we  were  swiftly  speeding 
^3  from  the  African  shores,  was  an  Arab  built 
^^^  P  craft  of  twelve  tons  burden,  and  carrying 
one  large  triangular  sail.  This  sail  could  not  be 
reefed,  but  was  tied  snug  to  the  long  yard  when  it  had 
to  be  reduced.  The  bottom  was  clean,  and  she  sailed 
like  a  witch,  notwithstanding  she  looked  so  old  and 
ungainly.  The  chief  seemed  to  understand  his  boat, 
and  took  the  helm  most  of  the  time.  The  crew  and 
guards  slept  by  turns,  with  their  weapons  at  hand. 
The  second  night  out,  one  of  the  natives  was  lost 
overboard.  This,  however,  'seemed  to  be  considered 
a  trivial  circumstance,  for  the  highlands  being  near, 
the  chief  let  hhn  swim  for  the  shore  or  drown. 
Which  alternative  he  adopted  we  never  knew. 

We  were  watched  sharply  by  the  negroes,  who 
numbered  double  our  little  band.  Our  food  was  rice 
and  dates,  served  out  to  us  twice  a  day,  and  a  shell 
full  of  water  four   times    every  ten  hours.      There 


92         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

never  was  any  water  lost  or  foolishly  drank.  We  fol- 
lowed the  coast,  past  the  high,  rocky  Cape,  into  the 
straits  of  Babelmandel.  The  coast  of  Ajan  was  on 
our  port  bow,  and  when  the  chief  ran  the  boat  for 
the  shore,  a  large  collection  of  huts,  neatly  covered 
with  mats  and  straw,  lay  before  us.  The  head  man 
of  the  little  town  received  from  our  Soumalie  chief  a 
bundle  or  two  of  copper  sheathing,  and  a  bale  of  cot- 
ton cloth  taken  from  our  wrecked  vessel,  then  raising 
the  sail  again,  we  steered  boldly  for  the  open  sea.  At 
dusk  the  highlands  of  the  Cape  appeared  misty  and 
dim  to  our  eyes. 

The  dow  ran  all  that  night  before  a  fair  wind,  and 
at  sunrise  no  land  was  in  sight.  We  talked  but  little 
that  day ;  our  hearts  were  too  full  of  glad  emotion 
to  find  vent  in  airy  words.  Silently  we  offered  our 
hearts'  thanksgivings  to  God,  who  had  made  the  bar- 
barous chief  an  instrument  to  lead  us  from  captivity 
and  death.  At  night  we  could  not  sleep,  for  the  crew 
of  the  boat  and  the  chief's  sons  kept  up  a  wild  and 
noisy  chant,  so  we  laid  on  the  cotton  cloth  and 
watched  the  stars  in  the  clear  firmament,  or  glad- 
dened our  souls  with  the  thought  of  the  swiftness  with 
which  the  dow  cut  its  way  through  the  dark  and  ruffled 
water.  We  saw,  by  watching  the  stars,  that  the  boat 
was  steered  about  North  East  by  East,  and  as  the  chief 
had  no  nautical  instruments,  we  wondered  how  he 
could  steer  so  true,  both  night  and  day.  Were  we 
bound  to  Arabia  to  be  sold  into  the  hands  of  a  cruel 
master,  or  were  we  bound  to  a  white  man's  town  ? 
We  soon  found  that  we  were  heading  for  the  port  of 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,         93 

Mocolo,  in  Arabia,  a  place  of  which  little  is  known 
to  the  civilized,  or  Western  world. 

The  fourth  day  after  we  left  Ras-ha-foon,  we  saw  a 
large  and  lofty  vessel  approaching  ns,  which,  as  it 
drew  near,  we  discovered  to  be  a  barque.  Oh,  how 
our  hearts  leaped  when  we  saw  by  the  rig  that  it  was 
an  American  vessel ;  but  the  chief  had  his  followers 
ready  for  us,  and  a  motion  on  our  part  would  have 
been  followed  by  instant  death.  Our  Captain  said, 
"  Boys,  there  is  tlie  '  Imaum'  homeward  bound." 

"  Yes  sir,  but  it  can  do  us  no  good,  for  these 
rascals  have  their  minds  made  up  to  kill  us  if  we 
attempt  to  rise  on  them." 

"  Yes,"  responded  the  mate,  "  if  we  had  anything 
to  lay  out  our  strength  with,  a  good  handspike  for 
instance,  we  might  clean  these  cusses  out." 

Dr.  Ray  advised  us  to  keep  quite  still,  as  the  na- 
tives were  all  prepared  to  run  us  through  at  our  first 
aggressive  motion. 

The  barque  swept  on  with  a  light  wind,  about  two 
miles  from  us.  The  Captain  told  the  chief  he  would 
give  him  anything  he  asked,  if  he  would  allow  him 
to  signalize  the  barque.  The  crafty  savage  soon 
hushed  him  to  silence  by  menacing  gestures,  and  put 
the  dow  before  the  wind  to  get  away  from  the  barque's 
vicinity.  A  bright  flag  was  displayed  from  the  spank- 
er-gaff of  our  countryman.  Our  flag  was  there; 
and  the  sight  of  the  beloved  banner  filled  us  with 
new  joy.  The  chief  ran  up  to  his  yards'  end,  long 
strips  of  red  bunting,  and  having  thus  exchanged 
courtesies,  the  two  vessels  rapidly  drew  away  from 


94         Seven  Years  of  a  SaUof^s  Life. 

each  other.  The  chief  then  patted  our  Captain  on 
his  back,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  am  miglity  glad  you 
all  kept  still,  for  you  know  I  want  the  ransom  money, 
and  did  not  want  you  to  conquer  us."  Our  Captain 
then  patted  the  chief  in  turn,  and  said,  "  If  I  don't 
get  ahead  of  you,  old  coon,  I  hope  you  will  harpoon 
me  with  one  of  your  fifteen  foot  spears,  as  soon  as  I 
get  ashore."  Of  course  the  chief  knew  not  Avhat  he 
said  or  meant,  but  we  all  understood  his  meaning. 

We  were  now  speeding  up  the  Red  Sea,  having 
sailed  more  than  four  hundred  miles  from  our  start- 
ing point. 

The  next  day  the  brown  land  of  Arabia  was  descried 
by  the  watchful  eye  of  the  chief.  Steering  in  its  di- 
rection, we  rapidly  drew  near  to  it,  and  after  we  had 
eaten  our  scanty  ration,  we  could  see  three  mountains, 
and  a  place  that  at  first  seemed  to  us  to  be  a  pile  of 
square  stones. 

The  boat  sped  onward  ;  the  pile  of  square  stones 
took  the  form  of  houses,  and  as  our  dow  turned  around 
a  long  point  of  land,  Mocolo  appeared  in  full  view. 
Mosques  and  minarets  towered  above  the  fiat-roofed 
houses.  Many  dows  lay  at  anchor  in  the  calm  har- 
bor, gaudily  and  gracefully  painted,  each  having  a 
red  flag,  emblazoned  with  the  star  and  crescent,  which 
the  red  flag  on  our  boat  did  not  bear.  The  dow  was 
run  near  to  the  streets  of  the  town,  and  moored  to 
another  dow.  There  was  a  great  clamor  on  the  white, 
sandy  beach,  and  soon  many  Arabs  were  pulling  olf  to 
us  in  well-manned  boats.  The  first  one  that  reached 
us  was  filled  with  a  well-dressed  crew  clad  in  turbians. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,         95 

jackets  and  trowsers,  and  headed  by  a  handsome  spec- 
imen of  Young  Arabia,  whose  jewelled  yathgan,  or 
scimetar,  hung  at  his  left  side.  A  splendid  shawl  was 
around  his  waist,  wherein  was  to  be  seen  a  pair  of 
richly  mounted  pistols.  Blue  trowsers  and  a  heavy 
white  turban  completed  his  costvime.  "With  a  nimble 
spring  he  soon  placed  himself  amongst  us,  and  then 
hurried  to  Madam  Mass,  who  received  him  very  cor- 
dially, and  producing  the  parchment  from  her  bosom, 
related  her  own  and  our  grievances,  pointing  first 
to  the  chief,  then  to  us,  clad  in  rags  and  alive  with 
vermin. 

The  chief,  Ali,  and  his  men  turned  many  shades 
blacker,  while  the  lady  was  relating  our  sufferings, 
and  as  soon  as  they  could  speak,  began  to  tell  their 
own  story.  The  young  man  soon  gave  them  to  under- 
stand that  he  cared  not  to  hear  them,  and  soon  had 
the  Captain,  passengers  and  ourselves  conveyed  in 
safety  to  the  beach. 

"  How  are  you,  old  coon,"  the  Captain  cried,  to  the 
enraged  Ali.  *'  I  told  you,  old  fellow,  you  would  get 
euchred  in  the  long  run.  You  will  be  lucky  if  you 
get  back  to  Africa  without  the  ransom  money." 

"  Yes,  old  kick-siiins,  what  will  you  give,  to  save 
your  neck  from  the  bow-string,"  shouted  the  mate, 
as  he  was  being  rowed  to  the  landing. 

The  cargo  of  the  Soumaulie  dow  in  which  we  had 
been  brought,  was  seized  and  taken  ashore,  while  the 
chief  and  his  men  were  allowed  in  town,  only  long 
enough  to  purchase  provisions  for  their  homeward 
trip.     This  done,  they  hurried  to  their  craft,  and  to 


96         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

escape  the  hands  of  the  executioner,  Old  Ali  and  his 
crew,  cheated,  and  raving  with  rage  and  mortification, 
set  all  sail,  and  at  sundown  had  measured  many  miles 
of  salt  water  on  their  outward  trip  from  Mocolo. 

Madam  Mass  was  among  friends,  and  caused  them 
to  take  an  interest  in  us.  The  place  to  which  we 
were  conducted  was  a  large  build uig,  six  stories  in 
height,  the  residence  of  the  Sultan  and  his  family. 
Streets,  houses,  bazaars,  tombs,  people,  camels,  and 
richly  dressed  Arabs  mot  our  wondering  gaze,  on 
every  hand.  No  white  men  lived  here ;  the  proud 
Arab,  and  the  humble  negro  were  tlie  only  classes  of 
people.  We  could  partially  understand  the  Arabs 
when  they  spoke  to  us,  and  led  us  to  the  third  floor 
of  the  western  wing  of  the  palace,  where  a  room,  cool 
and  pure,  about  forty  feet  wide  and  ninety  feet  long, 
with  a  fine  hard  floor,  composed  of  chanaum,  awaited 
us.  The  room  had  eight  windows,  and  a  richly  carved 
closet  or  wardrobe.  The  Sultan  heard  our  story,  and 
told  us  to  make  ourselves  at  ease  and  want  for  noth- 
ing. The  head  butcher,  a  hideous  looking  negro,  but 
a  master  of  his  trade,  soon  had  a  full  supply  of  mutton 
and  rice,  in  course  of  preparation  for  our  repast. 
Large  white  jars  of  cool,  pure  water  stood  in  the  cor- 
ners of  our  apartment,  and  a  large  room  on  our 
left,  with  a  bath-tub  full  of  water,  was  ready  for  our 
use. 

We  cared  not  to  bathe  until  we  had  had  our  hair 
cut,  and  the  old  rags  that  for  so  long  a  time  had 
been  our  only  clothing,  thrown  aside.  A  slave  soon 
appeared  with  a  large  quantity  of  white  cloth,  an- 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.         97 

other  followed  with  shears5^needles  and  thread,  which 
we  knew  well  how  to  handle.  After  a  most  regal  sup- 
per of  mutton,  rice,  dates,  garlic,  and  clear  cool  water, 
we  had  our  surplus  hair  cut  from  our  heads  ;  then, 
combs,  razors,  and  soap  being  provided,  we  rushed 
into  the  bath,  and  with  grateful  hearts  and  moistened 
eyes,  enjoyed  it  as  we  never  enjoyed  one  before.  Our 
bodies  presented  a  sorrowful  sight ;  no  civilized  man 
would  willingly  contemplate  us  longer  than  for  a  single 
moment,  blistered  and  blood-bespeckled  skeletons  as 
we  were,  laughing  with  joy  at  the  success  of  our  ran- 
som plan.  Here  we  were  among  kind  friends,  and  our 
former  masters  were  speeding  back  to  Africa,  cha- 
grined and  wild  with  rage.  Verily,  "  it 's  a  long  lane 
that  has  no  turning,"  and  we  could  truly  say  that 
we  had  been  snatched  from  the  jaws  of  hell,  and 
thanked  God  that  we  were  safe  from  the  wiles  of 
our  implacable  enemy.  That  warm  bath-room  was 
a  heaven  below,  to  our  happy  little  party.  No  oaths 
were  dropped ;  no  loud  talk  used ;  we  felt  the  sub- 
dued, gentle  spirit  of  kindness  and  humanity  over- 
shadowing us,  and  we  came  from  that  bath,  better 
men.  The  rags  we  had  worn  were  put  far  from  our 
sight,  the  cloth  was  measured  off,  and  in  less  than 
three  hours,  every  man  was  clad  in  shirt  and  trowsers, 
feeling  clean  and  happy.  The  remainder  of  the  cloth 
we  made  into  caps  and  jackets,  and  employed  our 
time  and  exercised  our  skill  in  making  them  neat  and 
well. 

The  next  morning  we  saw   the    ladies  and    Dr. 
Ray  handsomely  attired  in  shawls  and  full  Turkish 


98         Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

trowsers,  with  large  and  gaudy  turbans  on  their 
heads,  and  altogether  quite  Oriental  in  their  appear- 
ance. The  Captain  and  mate  were  dressed  in  blue 
garments.  We  complimented  the  party  on  their 
grotesque  looks,  and  they  complimented,  and  laughed 
at  us  in  turn. 

Stopping  in-doors  for  three  days,  we  viewed  the  town 
and  scenes  around  us  from  the  windows,  and  on  the 
morning  of  the  fourth,  we  went  out  to  enjoy  a  nearer 
view  of  the  place.  Long  strings  of  men  and  camels 
were  winding  their  way  through  the  narrow  streets. 
Houses  and  shops  were  open ;  the  hum  of  business 
was  heard  about  us,  and  the  stream  of  camels  seemed 
never  to  lessen.  The  noise  of  the  loom  and  hammer 
was  heard  ;  the  porters  staggered  by  with  heavy 
burdens  ;  the  women,  shrouded  from  head  to  foot  in 
robes  of  blue  cloth,  peered  out  at  us  from  behind 
their  heavy  veils.  Everybody  was  civil  to  us,  and 
made  way  for  us  to  walk  through  the  close,  narrow 
streets.  "  How  are  you,  Ras-ha-foon  ?"  cried  Jack 
Webster.  "  How  are  you,  Mocolo?  "  echoed  Bridges. 
"And  how  are  you,  Yankee  land?"  I  responded, 
"  We  '11  see  you  one  of  these  fine  days." 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.         99 


CHAPTER    X. 

Dates  Brought  us  —  Bible  Scenes — Howlers,  Contortioners,  and 
Lepers — Veiled  Women  —  Arabian  Beauty  —  Camel  Trains  — 
Mocolo  and  the  People  Described  —  A  Mysterious  Building  — 
The  Bazaars  and  their  Trade  —  The  Call  from  the  Minaret  —  An 
Agreeable  Surprise  —  Opening  of  the  Tombs  —  A  Day  of  Festivity 
—  Gay  Scenes  —  The  Bedouins  dash  into  Town  —  Splendid 
Horsemanship  —  The  Holiday  Over  —  Glad  Tidings  —  Good 
Prospects. 

^^^E  returned  to  the  palace,  feeling  tired,  but 
f^ff£r  pleased  with  our  walk.  As  soon  as  we  were 
'^^"^^^  quiet,  and  sprawled  out  on  the  cool  chanaum 
floor,  two  slaves  brought  to  us  a  heavy  bundle  of  dates. 
These  were  divided  equally,  each  receiving  twenty- 
four  pounds.  We  laid  them  in  the  huge,  carved 
cupboard,  so  that  each  man  had  his  own  share  to  go 
to  and  eat. 

We  constantly  saw  the  old  Bible  scenes  enacted 
before  us.  A  watch-tower  capped  each  of  the  three 
high  mountains  ;  two  women  were  grinding  their 
grain  in  a  hand-mill ;  the  leper  walked  the  streets, 
crying  "unclean,"  his  body  turned  from  brown,  to 
white,  or  red,  in  large  blotches  or  spots,  the  people 
invariably  shunning  his  approach.  The  howlers  con- 
tortioners, and  dancers,  were  on  the  beach  perform- 
ing their  devotions,  and  entering  into  their  religious 
exercises  with  a  spirit  that  would  astonish  a  Chris- 
tian.    Carried  away  by  their  enthusiasm,  they  placed 


100       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

themselves  in  every  conceivable  posture,  chanting 
all  the  time,  and  frothing  at  the  mouth,  loud,  and 
rude  music  accompanying  their  devotions. 

The  women  were  to  be  seen  in  the  streets  in  great 
numbers,  walking  erect  and  stately,  yet,  during  all 
the  time  we  were  there,  I  saw  the  features  of  but  one 
Arabian  woman.  I  was  strolling  away,  one  after- 
noon, alone,  and  had  toiled  through  the  dusty  streets, 
seeing  the  places  of  trade  and  the  tombs,  when,  as  I 
came  to  the  wall  that  ran  around  the  Sultan's  tomb, 
I  saw  a  child  with  his  face  painted  red  and  green, 
and  large  hopples  on  his  ancles  to  keep  him  from  go- 
ing astray,  fall  over  his  clumsy  drag,  and  cut  his 
face  on.  the  ground.  I  ran  and  picked  him  up, 
brushed  the  dirt  from  his  eyes,  and  calmed  the  agita- 
tion he  manifested  upon  finding  himself  in  the  hands 
of  a  white  person.  While  I  was  thus  employed,  the 
mother  of  the  child  ran  to  take  him  into  the  house. 
I  gazed  full  at  her,  as  I  made  a  "  saalam,"  and  saw 
a  lithe,  brown  figure,  clean  and  well-formed,  clothed 
in  dark  blue  cotton  cloth.  Her  round,  tapering  arms 
clasped  her  child,  and  with  a  frightened  look,  and 
hasty  step,  she  sought  the  shelter  of  her  house.  She 
had  a  perfectly  oval  face,  clear,  regular  features,  and 
coal-black  eyes.  A  profusion  of  long,  black  hair 
fell  over  her  gracefully  sloping  shoulders  ;  her  eye- 
lashes were  stained  black  with  "  yokel,"  in  order  to 
give  a  brighter  look  to  the  eyes.  Her  teeth  were 
white  and  regular ;  bands  of  pure  gold  were  on  her 
arms,  little  silver  hoops  in  her  ears,  and  I  thought 
that  if  all  the  Arab  women  were  like  this  one,  Arabia 
had  its  share  of  female  beauty. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       101 

>  Hundreds  of  camels  and  donkeys  were  constantly 
passing  from  the  town  to  the  interior  of  the  country, 
and  others  arriving  with  skins  of  water,  bundles  of 
grass,  wood,  gums,  clay,  fruit,  and  vegetables.  The 
water  is  placed  in  large  jars,  holding  sixty  gallons, 
and  thus  kept  cool.  These  jars  are  made  in  the 
town,'  and  quite  a  traffic  is  carried  on  in  shipping 
them  to  other  countries. 

Mocolo  contains  two  mosques,  three  minarets,  two 
public  houses,  two  large  tombs,  and,  as  near  as  I 
could  judge,  two  hundred  houses,  and  bazaars. 
Their  watch-towers,  as  seen  in  the  engraving,  over- 
look the  whole,  and  from  them  warning  is  given  of 
danger  on  land  and  sea.  It  has  a  good  harbor,  filled 
with  Arab  dows,  from  nine  to  a  hundred  tons  bur- 
den, well  armed  and  manned.  Two  large  dows 
were  being  built  on  the  beach  when  we  were  there, 
and  a  pile  of  cannon  lay  near  the  cemetery.  The 
men  of  the  place  are  well  dressed  in  embroidered 
jackets,  bournese,  and  caftans ;  gay  turbans  and  wide 
trowsers.  Many  of  them  wear  sandals;  others,  yel- 
low shoes  turned  over  at  the  toe.  A  thick  and  costly 
shawl  is  frequently  worn  about  the  waist,  wherein 
are  thrust  tlie  ugly  jambea,  and  long,  costly  pistols. 
Their  matchlock  guns  are  nearly  nine  feet  long, 
and  the  barrels  banded  with  many  silver  rings.  Their 
chief  pride  is  in  their  horses,  which  are  pretty  and 
smart  enough,  but  never  trot.  They  run  with  the 
swiftness  of  the  wind,  but  only  when  danger  presses. 
Next  to  their  horses  they  glory  in  their  arms,  the 
scimetar  they  use  being  a  splendid  specimen  of  bar- 


102       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life, 

baric  skill  and  taste.  The  higher  grade  of  people  are 
easily  known  from  the  lower  class,  by  their  costly 
weapons,  and  the  rich  quality  of  their  dress. 

Dogs,  cats,  goats  and  sheep  are  common.  The  lat- 
ter were  known  as  "  fat-tailed  sheep,"  and  had  an 
abundance  of  wool  on  their  bodies.  If  Barnum  could 
have  possessed  the  great  goat  of  Mocolo,  he  would 
have  astonished  everybody.  He  was  five  feet  in  height, 
and  for  safety  was  chained  to  strong  posts.  Every 
animal  that  passed  trembled  in  fear  of  the  monster. 
Three  negroes  had  constant  charge  of  him.  One  of 
our  men  exclaimed,  "  Well,  sure  it  is  a  goat,  but  I 
thought  it  was  an  elephant." 

The  tombs  are  splendid  structures,  and  have  been 
built  many  years.  Tlie  larger  of  these  has  a  dome  cov- 
ered with  bright  metal,  which  flashes  in  the  sun,  and  is 
an  object  of  constant  care  and  devotion.  Thousands  of 
small  fish  swim  near  the  beach,  the  fishermen  taking 
large  quantities  in  nets.  These  fish  are  strung  on 
wires  and  held  over  the  fire  until  they  are  thoroughly 
cooked.  When  salted,  they  are  delicious,  resembling 
the  sardine  or  capelan,  and  are  much  sought  for  by 
the  keepers  of  the  side  bazaars,  who  sell  their  goods 
to  purchasers  who  stand  outside.  The  bazaars  are 
well  filled  with  various  articles ;  rice,  eggs,  bread,  fish, 
garlic,  shells,  dates,  ostrich  feathers,  and  eggs,  mil- 
let, dourrh,  ghee,  (the  native  butter)  and  oil,  being 
the  principal  articles  of  trade.  Side  shops  can  supply 
gold,  precious  stones,  knives  and  pistols,  clothing  and 
leather  w^ork.  A  large  building  in  the  town,  from 
the  dome  of  which  great  quantities  of  smoke  poured 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       103 

forth  day  and  night,  was  wholly  tabooed  from  Yan- 
kee curiosity,  and  we  were  never  permitted  to  see 
its  interior. 

Every  morning  before  the  break  of  day,  the  "  muz- 
zimen,"  from  the  upper  railing  of  the  high  minaret, 
chanting  his  prayer  in  a  loud,  steady  voice,  called 
the  faithful  from  their  homes  to  the  divine  service  in. 
the  mosque.  Our  men  aroused  themselves  as  his  so- 
norous tones  reached  their  ears,  and  cried  to  each 
other,  "  Say,  Bill,  Jack,  and  Ned,  don't  3^ou  hear  him 
calling  the  watch  ?  Rouse  out,  the  Dutch  have  taken 
Holland,  and  the  wind  can't  blow."  "  Say,  old  fellow, 
how  many  bells  is  it  ?  "  asked  an  anxious  one,  going 
to  the  window.  "  Come  out  of  that,"  yelled  another, 
"  the  chap  is  saying  mass  for  you  ;  look  at  the  young 
mokes  filling  up  the  bath  tub."  This  allusion  was 
made  to  the  slaves  filling  the  great  tank  in  which  the 
Mohammedans  bathed  before  entering  the  church. 

That  day  the  Sultan  sent  horses  for  us  to  ride. 
The  ladies  and  one  of  our  men  gaily  dashed  away,  on 
the  splendid  steeds,  closely  followed  by  a  number  of 
black  grooms,  well  mounted.  The  King  of  Zanzibar 
never  forgot  the  young  Yankee  who  rode  the  horse 
that  none  other  dared  to  ride,  until  the  noble  animal 
was  under  complete  control.  The  Sultan  of  the 
town  had  thus  shown  his  courtesies  to  us,  but  we 
dared  not  risk  a  fall  from  a  flying  animal,  and  were 
thus  obliged  to  forego  that  pleasure  ;  but  at  dusk  the 
steeds  bore  safely  back  the  riders,  who  were  all  well 
pleased  with  the  day's  sport. 

One  very  hot  day  the  tomb  of  the  royal  family  was 


104       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

opened,  as  were  also  the  smaller  ones,  and  the  town 
was  given  up  to  rejoicing  and  festivity.  Crowds  of 
natives  in  gay  costumes  paraded  the  streets.  The 
children  were  hideously  painted.  Mimic  battles  were 
fought,  flags  streamed  from  all  prominent  places,  and 
the  cannon  that  were  mounted,  belched  forth  their 
sharp  and  loud  thunder.  The  women  had  their  arms 
and  ancles  banded  with  gold,  the  invariable  thick  veil 
covering  their  faces.  Horsemen  galloped  about  on 
fretted  steeds,  the  long  gun  strapped  on  their  backs, 
and  hands  fall  of  colored  flags.  Throngs  of  men, 
women,  and  children  filled  every  place;  the  desert 
wanderer  was  there,  the  merchant,  the  sailor,  and 
the  slave.  Howlers  and  dancers  out-did  themselves  ; 
sweetmeats  and  fruit  were  on  every  hand.  The  day 
was  still  further  honored  by  the  appearance  of  about 
two  hundred  wild  Bedouins,  who  dashed  into  the  town, 
firing  their  long  guns,  and  whooping  like  loose  devils. 
Tliey  came  to  pay  their  annual  visit  to  the  Sultan,  and 
were  a  rough-and-tumble  set  of  men,  all  riding  noble 
horses,  which  they  managed  with  skill  and  ease. 
These  warriors  spent  the  night  in  the  caravansary, 
and  quietly  returned  to  their  desert  homes  on  the 
morrow.  We  went  back  to  our  room  quite  satisfied 
with  an  Arabian  holiday. 

The  harem  of  the  Sultan  was  in  the  same  build- 
ing in  which  we  were  located,  but  we  never  had  an 
opportunity  to  see  his  wives.  We  had  drank  noth- 
ing but  water  for  many  months,  and,  although  in  a 
coffee  bearing  country,  we  had  none  offered  to  us. 
Though   we  could   not  complain,  for  we  had  beea 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       105 

treated  like  brothers,  yet  we  were  getting  weary  of 
our  mild  and  easy  form  of  captivity.  We  felt  like  a 
person  who*  had  completed  a  visit  and  wished  to  go 
home,  yet  did  not  want  to  inform  the  kind  host  to 
that  effect.  But  we  had  recovered  our  strength  and 
cleanliness,  and  felt  grateful  for  the  kind  treatment 
so  generously  lavished  upon  us,  and  did  not  wish  to 
be  an  encumbrance  to  the  Sultan. 

Week  after  week  had  glided  away,  and  yet  no  men- 
tion had  been  made  of  our  quiting  the  country.  We 
were  the  first  white  men  that  had  stopped  in  Mocolo 
for  many  years,  and  so  long  as  we  conducted  our- 
selves with  propriety,  we  were  welcome  guests.  At 
length  as  we  began  to  grow  more  and  more  weary  of 
the  monotony,  the  Captain  told  us  he  had  made  a  bar- 
gain with  the  Sultan  to  have  us  conveyed  to  Aden,  in 
one  of  his  own  dows.  This  was  glad  news  to  us,  and 
We  felt  really  happy  at  the  prospect  of  soon  being 
among  men  of  our  own  color  and  manners.  Another 
lot  of  dates  was  given  to  us,  and  leaf  tobacco  in  abun- 
dance ;  also  one  long  pipe  for  all  of  us  to  smoke. 
The  gold  which  we  had  brought  in  our  belts  was 
taken  in  charge  by  the  Captain,  yet  we  cared  nothing 
about  it,  so  long  as  we  had  a  plenty  to  eat,  and  were 
advancing  to  freedom  and  the  comforts  and  blessings 
of  a  civilized  life. 


106       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof's  Life. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

Thoughts  on  Leaving  Mocolo  —  The  Boat  and  Escort  —  Loaded  up 
—  Farewell  to  our  Dusky  Friends  —  A  Good  Bill  of  Fare —  Aden 
in  Sight  —  Our  Raptures  on  Seeing  an  American  Ship  —  All  Hail, 
Stars  and  Stripes  —  Passing  up  the  Harbor  —  Joyful  Meeting  of 
Madam  Mass  with  her  Husband  and  Friends  —  Ashore  —  Speech 
of  the  Captain  of  the  Guide  —  The  Sailor's  Boarding-House  at 
Aden  —  The  Hindoo  Landlord  —  Rough  Scenes  and  Tough 
Scenes. 


HE  large  dow  of  the  Sultan  lay  in  the  harbor,  a 
^  gaily  painted  craft  with  a  carved  figure-head. 
She  carried  two  masts,  one  large  spar  for  the 
mainsail,  and  a  small  one  near  the  stern  to  spread 
more  sail  when  the  wind  was  light.  We  were  anxious 
to  be  on  our  way,  and  heartily  cheered  the  Sultan 
when  we  saw  him  leading  the  ladies  to  the  beach,  in 
order  to  conduct  them  to  the  dow,  in  his  well-manned 
boat,  which  in  four  trips  placed  aboard  our  little  party 
and  twenty  Arabs.  The  Sultan's  son  and  attendants, 
the  crew,  the  cooks,  and  slave  boys,  together  with  six 
sheep,  and  provisions,  tanks  of  water,  wood,  and  a 
large  iron  kettle,  making  a  heavy  load  for  the  dow. 

The  flags  were  flying  from  ship  and  shore  ;  the  Sul- 
tan waved  his  hand  to  us,  and  we  cheered  with  all 
our  power ;  the  moorings  were  slipped,  the  triangular 
sail  hoisted  and  trimmed,  and  the  dow,  keeling  over 
with  the  strong  wind,  rapidly  left  the  harbor.  A  long 
copper  cannon  on  our  boat,  was  loaded  and  fijced  as 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       107 

fast  as  the  gunners  could  pick  up  the  piece  and  lash 
it  anew  :  for  every  time  it  was  discharged,  the  force  of 
the  recoil  burst  the  rope  fastenings,  and  the  gun  came 
end  over  end  into  the  boat.  They  made  out  to  fire  it 
nine  times  before  we  had  gone  a  mile  from  the  har- 
bor, and  then,  tired  out  with  the  hard  work,  they 
allowed  the  piece  to  lay  where  it  last  fell. 

All  hands  turned  to  look  at  the  town  we  were  fast 
leaving,  and  to  wave  our  hats  and  turbans  to  friends 
on  the  shore.  Farewell,  dark  but  kindly  faces,  and, 
good-bye,  hospitable  town ;  may  peace  and  plenty  be 
at  your  doors.     Mocolo  !  Farewell. 

Gaily  we  bounded  along  the  shore.  There  were 
two  or  three  native  dows  coming  down  the  coast, 
beating  against  the  wind.  These  dows  sail  well,  but 
cannot  lay  up  to  the  wind  like  a  Yankee  schooner. 
They  sail  fast  enough  running  before  the  wind,  but  a 
schooner  would  make  three  feet  to  their  one,  when 
beating  to  windward.  Soon  after  the  great  kettle  was 
placed  in  the  bottom  of  the  dow  the  cook  had  a  sheep 
killed  and  dressed.  Mutton,  rice,  dates  and  coffee, 
formed  the  bill  of  fare  during  the  whole  trip  of  four 
days.  The  coifee  was  served  in  little  earthen  cups  ;  it 
was  black,  strong,  and  without  sweetening,  and  after 
taking  a  small  portion,  we  greatly  preferred  water, 
not  having  been  accustomed  to  taking  coffee  in  Arab 
fashion.  The  tobacco  was  excellent  ;  the  Arabs 
smoked  their  long  pipes  and  took  solid  comfort.  They 
did  not  hinder  us  from  going  anywhere  on  the  dow, 
and  they  and  ourselves  were  on  the  best  of  terms 
during  the  voyage.     We  had  plenty  to  eat  and  drink, 


108       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

time  to  sleep  and  smoke,  and  as  the  dow  was  making 
good  time  over  the  water,  we  were  perfectly  content. 
The  full  moon  at  night  shed  its  pale  light  over  the 
sea ;  the  days  were  healthy  though  hot ;  and  the  wind 
strong  and  fair,  wafted  ns  right  merrily  to  our  des- 
tined port. 

As  the  sun  was  setting  the  fourth  day  after  we  left 
Mocolo,  we  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  high  and 
rocky  mountains  that  encompass  the  town  of  Aden. 
The  long  night  wore  away,  and  daylight  brought  us  a 
view  of  our  surroundings.  We  were  near  the  lofty, 
towering  hills  ;  the  surges  of  the  Red  Sea  lashed  the 
rocky  shores,  and  our  gallant  boat  that  had  borne  us 
safely,  scattered  the  spray  in  showers  from  its  low, 
lean  bows. 

Soon  the  shipping  lying  at  anchor  burst  upon  our 
sight,  and  we  neared  it  rapidly.  The  vessels  were 
setting  their  colors,  at  the  crack  of  the  sunrise  gun, 
and  up  from  a  large  ship  ran  a  ball  of  bunting.  It 
broke,  and  the  glorious  flag  of  freedom,  was  displayed 
to  our  tear-dimmed  eyes.  We  cheered,  the  Arabs 
cheered,  and  all  cheered  together.  The  crew  of  the 
ship  dropped  buckets  and  brooms,  and  ran  to  the 
rail,  to  gaze  on  the  few  white  men  among  our  crew  of 
dark-hued  Arabs. 

Our  Captain  shouted  to  the  ship,  "  Crew  of  the 
wrecked  barque.  Guide  ; "  and  then,  as  we  swept  past 
them,  the  sailors  sprang  to  the  rigging  and  cheered 
us  lustily.  I  glanced  at  the  ship's  name,  and  can 
never  forget  the  feelings  of  joy  that  filled  my  heart  as 
I  read,  ''Ocean  Monarch,  New  York."     What  a 


/  1   i 


/ 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life.       109 

pleasure  it  was  to  know  that  we  were  so  near  our 
countrymen.  There  was  the  flag  of  our  native  land 
dancing  in  the  breeze,  and  farther  np  the  harbor  was 
another  Yankee  ship. 

On  we  went,  passing  English,  French,  Russian  and 
Hamburg  steamers,  men-of-war  and  vessels  of  all 
kinds.  Suddenly  the  rudder  of  our  boat  becaftie  un- 
shipped and  floated  away  with  the  strong  tide.  Two 
of  the  Arab  crew  jumped  overboard,  recovered  it,  and 
then  secured  it  to  its  place.  The  men-of-war  boats, 
with  long  sweeping  oars,  plyed  between  the  steamers 
and  the  wharf,  their  straw-hatted,  blue-collared  crews 
staring  in  surprise  at  us,  while  the  negroes  on  the 
coal-lighters  dropped  their  tow-rope,  and  looked  on  in 
wonder..  The  songs  of  the  sailors,  as  they  worked  the 
brakes  of  the  windlass,  or  sheeted  home  the  topsails, 
fell  joyously  on  our  ears.  How  gay  we  were ;  all 
suffering  and  care  lay  buried  under  our  glad  excite- 
ment. The  houses  and  hotels  on  the  shore  next  came 
in  view,  and  all  around  was  life  and  bustle.  Vast 
piles  of  English  coal  met  our  gaze,  and  far  up  the 
harbor,  a  little  island  was  fairly  buried  under  it. 
Heavy  batteries  were  mounted  on  the  sides  of  the 
mountains,  and  signal  stations  ornamented  their 
tops. 

The  dow  soon  came  to  anchor,  and  our  Captain  land- 
ed. Anxiously  we  awaited  his  return,  and  when  we 
saw  him  approaching  with  the  Consul  and  other  white 
men,  we  felt  that  our  wanderings  were  at  an  end. 
The  shore  party  were  quickly  boated  off*  to  us,  and 
among  them  were  the  husband  and  family  of  Madam 


110       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

Mass.  Words  cannot  express  the  deep  emotion  which 
stirred  their  hearts,  and  they  cried  with  joy,  to  be 
once  more  folded  in  loving  arms.  The  gallant 
Frenchmen  greeted  ns  kindly,  and  invited  us  to  call 
on  them  if  we  were  in  want.  Our  Arab  friends 
watched  all  the  proceedings  with  great  interest,  and 
after  'taking  a  week's  recreation  in  Aden,  they  re- 
turned to  Mocolo,  but  not  empty-handed,  as  the  Con- 
sul generously  rewarded  them  for  their  trouble,  and 
kindness  to  us. 

We  were  taken  ashore,  and  Madam  Mass  and 
daughter  shook  hands  with  ns  all  before  entering 
their  carriage.  They  thanked  ns  kindly  for  the 
assistance  we  had  rendered  them  during  our  long  and 
sad  experience,  desired  us  to  remember  them  if  at 
any  future  time  they  could  be  of  service  to  us,  and 
wished  us  a  safe  and  pleasant  voyage  home,  and 
happy  meeting  with  all  our  friends. 

It  was  upwards  of  half  a  mile  to  the  public  house, 
but  we  soon  reached  it,  and  with  light  and  happy 
hearts,  entered  its  cool  halls.  The  chocadores,  or 
native  police,  watched  us  with  a  considerable  degree 
of  interest,  and  the  many  ladies  and  gentlemen  stop- 
ping at  the  hotel,  half  laughed  as  they  looked  upon 
us  through  their  eye-glasses.  The  Consul  had  a 
bath  prepared,  and  a  native  soon  approached  us  with 
a  good  supply  of  clothing  for  all  of  our  party.  Pres- 
ently the  Captain  and  mate  appeared  before  us,  clad 
in  neat  citizens'  dress,  and  looking  finely.  They 
waited  until  we  all  were  clothed  in  our  new  suits, 
and  the  Captain  then  said, — 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       111 

"  Boys,  the  mate  and  myself  intend  to  go  to  the 
States  by  way  of  Alexandria,  Marseilles,  and  South- 
hampton, in  the  steamer  that  sails  in  less  than  a 
week,  and  will  take  home  any  letters  you  may  wish 
to  send.  I  shall  pay  you  all  off  to  the  time  the  ves- 
sel struck  the  beach.  I  have  secured  a  good  board- 
ing-house for  you,  and  the  Consul  is  at  hand  to  aid 
you  when  you  need  his  services,  but  I  advise  you  to 
get  a  homeward  bound  ship  as  soon  as  you  can." 

He  then  paid  us  off.  My  own  share  was  thirty-six 
dollars,  and  all  of  us  were  content  and  happy.  The 
Captain  then  conducted  us  to  a  boarding-house,  kept 
by  a  Hindoo  named  Marker,  and  left  us  to  do  the 
best  we  could  for  ourselves. 

We  entered  the  domicil  and  saw  that  they  were 
preparing  dinner,  which  was  soon  ready.  Strange 
faces  we  met  at  that  board,  and  drunken  sailors  who 
came  rolling  in  to  their  places  at  the  long  table. 
Eggs,  bread,  sardines,  liquor  and  meats  were  before 
us.  The  knife  and  fork  were  held  in  my  hand  the 
first  time  for  one  hundred  and  twenty  days.  I  had 
forgotten  many  of  the  rules  of  society,  and  made  sev- 
eral blunders.  The  other  men  of  the  party  loudly 
called  out,  "  Trot  them  spuds  down  here.  Hurry 
up  that  soft  tack.  Say,  Jim,  or  what's-yer-name, 
chuck  the  beef  along  this  way  ;  do  look  alive  for  once, 
man."  Others  were  still,  and  busy  with  their  food. 
The  water,  served  in  thick  tumblers,  was  cool  and  to 
us  delicious.  The  cigars  and  pipes  were  in  full  blast 
as  soon  as  the  men  had  finished  their  hasty  meal. 
Papers  of  English,  French,  and  Hindostanee  print, 


# 

112       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

were  about  the  room.  The  beds  in  the  chambers  were 
only  such  in  name ;  wash  basins  and  towels  were 
scarce,  and  loud  and  hard  words  were  heard  on  every 
side. 

That  night  as  the  men  were  around  the  table,  play- 
ing cards  and  smoking  their  pipes,  the  door  opened, 
and  a  bulky  individual,  a  little  the  worse  for  liquor, 
staggered  in.  He  called  for  sardines  and  wine  ;  and 
having  had  his  fill,  he  brought  his  clenched  hand 
heavily  to  the  table  and  shouted, — 

''  I  am  the  bully  mate  of  the  '  Deleganie,'  show  me 
the  man  I  can't  whip." 

He  then  glared  around  the  room,  and  observing  a 
little  Frenchman  that  sat  near  me,  he  addressed  him 
in  a  harsh  and  insulting  manner.  "  You  go  away, 
or  you  get  hurt,"  calmly  replied  the  little  steward. 
The  drunken  fellow  advanced,  as  if  to  crush  the 
spunky  little  man,  who  met  him  with  a  quick  blow, 
fair  in  the  mouth,  felling  him  to  the  floor.  "  Get 
up,  and  go  aboard,"  said  the  steward,  and  raising  him 
to  his  feet,  he  hurried  him  into  the  street  in  quick  time. 
The  "  bully  mate  "  never  showed  his  ill-used  features 
in  that  house  again,  and  the  little  steward  was  voted  a 
good  fellow.  Boxes  of  sardines  and  rolls  of  bread  were 
then  produced,  and  noisily  washed  down  with  strong 
*'  Old  Tom." 

Why  is  it  that  a  sailor  will,  in  eight  cases  out  of 
ten,  become  drunk  as  soon  as  he  gets  where  there  is 
liquor  ?  Are  these  men  hardened,  or  is  it  to  prop 
up  a  false  courage  that  they  indulge  in  this  soul- 
degrading  habit  ?     A  great  many  think  they  are  not 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       113 

sailors  if  tliey  are  not  able  to  toss  ojff  a  stiff  glass, 
smoke,  chew,  and  roll  out  big  oaths.  They  have  an 
idea  that  it  is  manly,  and  raises  them  in  the  estima- 
tion of  a  sea-faring  community,  while  at  the  same 
time  its  tendency  is  to  lower  them  in  the  eyes  of  their 
superiors  and  their  more  intelligent  shipmates.  In 
some  deep-water  ships  there  are  good,  upright  men  ; 
humane  and  brave.  These  study  hard,  keep  a  good 
character,  and  rise  to  position,  while  the  slip-shod, 
drunken  men,  who  go  in  for  a  good  time,  are  always 
found  in  the  long  boat,  and  leading  their  old,  careless 
lives, — "  a  gentleman  for  a  day,  a  dog  for  a  year." 
Thus  they  go  on,  until  they  hear  the  watch  called  for 
the  last  time  in  this  world,  and,  with  their  faces  to 
the  wall,  have  plenty  of  time  to  repent  of  misspent 
lives,  and  of  having  thrown  away  the  golden  chances 
within  their  grasp.  But  come,  chum,  the  air  is  too 
close  here,  —  tobacco  fumes,  old  tom,  and  curses  are 
plenty ;  let  us  get  a  mouthful  of  fresh  air. 


114       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 


CHAPTER    XII. 

Respectable  Again  —  A  Tropical  Rain  —  All  Afloat — Stampede  of 
the  Boarders  —  Houses  in  Ruins  —  A  Welcome  Letter  from 
Home  —  Parting  with  our  Captain  and  Companions  in  Captivity 
—  What  is  to  be  Seen  at  Aden —  An  Enraged  Native  —  Donkey 
Tricks  on  Sailors  —  A  Curiously  Tattooed  Arab  Girl  —  Passports 
Obtained — We  Ship  for  Bombay  —  A  Good  Berth  —  Preparing 
to  Leave  Port  —  Ostrich  Feather  Merchants  —  One  Trick  of 
Many. 

NOW  began  to  feel  like  myself,  once  more  a 
1i^k  man,  and  in  respectable  trim,  —  with  my  two 
'  ^^  suits  of  cotton  clothes,  my  face  smooth,  and 
free  from  all  traces  of  my  long  captivity,  and  my 
health  fully  restored.  As  soon  as  possible  I  hastened 
to  the  wharves  and  endeavored  to  find  an  opportunity 
to  ship  for  home,  but  among  the  numerous  craft  that 
lined  the  bay,  none  presented  itself,  and  at  night  1  re- 
turned to  the  house  and  found  my  dog-bed  in  an  vipper 
room.  I  had  not  remained  there  long  before  I  heard 
the  pattering  of  a  steady  pouring  rain  upon  the  flat 
roof.  This  was  the  first  rain  I  had  known  for  more 
than  five  months,  and  I  put  my  head  out  of  the 
window,  to  enjoy  the  cooling  shower.  Soon  I  was 
startled  by  the  voice  of  Bridges,  who  shouted,  — 
"  Ned,  are  you  awake  ?" 
"  Yes,  I  am,  and  here  at  the  window." 
"  Well,"  said  he,  "  if  this  rain  keeps  on,  you  will 
see  the  devil  played  in  this  town." 


1 

Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       115 

"  Why,"  said  I,  "  what  harm  can  ram  do  ?  I  am 
glad  to  see  it  come." 

*'  Don't  you  know,"  he  continued,  "  what  the  Bible 
says  about  houses  built  on  sand  ?  Whew,  how  it 
comes  down  ;  sounds  as  if  the  whole  mill-dam  up 
aloft  had  burst.  The  rainy  season  has  set  in,  and 
1  'm  for  getting  out  of  this  shebang,  plaguy  quick." 

1  struck  a  match,  and  soon  had  a  luminary  in  my 
hand.  We  dressed  and  hurried  down  stairs,  opened 
the  door  and  looked  out.  Solid,  white  sheets  of 
water,  were  falling  from  the  heavens.  1  turned  to  go 
back,  and  tumbled  over  a  drunken  sailor,  lying  on  the 
floor,  buried  in  a  deep  sleep.  1  roused  him,  and  laid 
him  on  the  table.  On  going  into  the  front  room,  we 
found  the  boarders  lying  about  at  random. 

"  Come,  Marker,  why  don't  you  lead  us  out  of  this 
old  trap,  the  walls  will  be  coming  down  soon  ? "  yelled 
a  half-tipsy  man,  as  he  pushed  Ins  mat  of  hair  from  his 
eyes. 

"  Yes,  me  go,  me  tink  me  house  come  down.  0, 
dam,  dam,  see  de  water  come  in,"  answered  the  half- 
crazy  Hindoo,  and  ran  off  to  pack  up  his  household 
goods,  and  save  his  little  property. 

When  daylight  appeared,  there  were  no  signs  of  a 
breakfast,  or  of  a  move  to  get  any.  We  rolled  our 
clothing  in  small,  hard  bundles,  and  ran  for  the  large 
hotel.  Native  houses  were  falling  in  ruins  at  every 
corner  we  turned ;  verily,  the  foolish  man  had  built 
his  house  upon  the  sand,  and  was  reaping  the  conse- 
quences. The  braying  of  donkeys,  and  the  cries  of 
men  and  women  fell  on  our  ears,  as  we  went  to  the 


116       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life* 

hotel.  W.e  waded  to  our  waists,  in  a  rolling  stream 
of  yellow  water,  bearing  dead  poultry,  animals,  and 
all  kinds  of  household  rubbish  upon  its  surging  sur- 
face. After  tumbling  down,  hurting  our  feet,  and 
meeting  with  sundry  other  mishaps,  we  at  length  ar- 
rived at  the  strong  hotel,  built  on  a  sure  foundation 
of  rock.  Still  the  solid  rain  poured  upon  the  town, 
ran  down  the  sides  of  the  rough  mountains  in  broad 
rivers,  and  we  gazed  with  awe  upon  this  tropical 
deluge.  The  hotel  was  filled  with  men  and  women, 
of  all  descriptions,  and  the  other  large  buildings 
were  equally  crowded.  The  ships  in  the  harbor 
filled  their  tanks ;  the  reservoirs  were  overflowed ; 
camps  and  roads  washed  away,  and  the  damage  done 
to  the  main  highway  alone  amounted  to  many  thous- 
ands of  dollars.  The  famous  Turkish  wall  was  broken 
and  tumbled  down;  many  animals  were  killed  and 
drowned,  and  one  hundred  and  forty  natives'  houses 
lay  in  ruins.  Thus  much  for  the  greatest  rain  that 
had  fell  on  Aden  for  seven  years. 

The  day  after  the  deluge,  as  I  sat  on  the  hotel  steps, 
I  saw  a  native  on  a  camel,  wading  towards  me.  He 
made  his  "  salaam,"  and  handed  me  a  letter.  I  looked 
at  the  address,  and  fairly  yelled  with  delight,  —  it  was 
from  home !  I  paid  the  messenger  well  for  his  trou- 
ble, and  he  said,  *'  Capen  and  de  missis  go  munyana, 
in  de  big  smoke  boat."  "All  right,"  said  I,  "  I  '11  be 
there  to  bid  them  good-bye ;  my  respects  to  the  par- 
ty," I  hastily  added,  and  ran  away  from  the  crowd, 
that  I  might  read  my  letter  in  quietude. 

Good  news  to  an  absent  son!     A  mother's  love 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       117 

.and  kind  advice ;  a  father's  warning,  and  a  soldier 
brother's  manly  greeting.  And  this  little  missive  had 
travelled  land  and  sea,  for  three  months  to  reach  me. 
0,  kind  letters  from  home,  —  they  are  the  life  buoys 
that  keep  a  wanderer's  soul  above  the  deep  waters  of 
crime  and  despair.  The  tie  that  binds  heart  to  heart 
grows  stronger  as  farther  and  farther  the  wanderer 
speeds  from  home ;  and  these  messages  of  kind,  anx- 
ious friends,  keep  a  man  in  his  path  of  duty,  and  ever 
looking  forward  to  the  time  of  a  safe  return,  and  a 
happy  re-union  with  those  he  loves. 

The  barque  had  been  expected  home  the  month  that 
I  received  the  letter,  —  but  to  us  it  seemed  as  though 
we  were  yet  on  our  outward  voyage,  still  going  on- 
ward, with  no  idea  of  reaching  the  United  States  for 
months.  I  penned  a  long  letter,  stating  the  particu- 
lars of  our  wreck,  captivity,  and  safe  delivery  from 
the  power  of  the  blacks.  I  went  in  a  "  dingy  "  to 
the  steamer,  saw  the  ladies  and  our  three  male  com- 
panions in  captivity,  had  a  talk  with  the  Captain,  and 
gave  him  my  letter.  Then  with  a  full  heart,  and  a 
warm  and  strong  farewell  grip  of  the  hand,  I  left  them, 
never  more  to  meet  in  this  world.  The  officers  safely 
reached  the  States.  My  letter,  and  one  written  by 
the  Captain,  were  alike  on  most  points,  and  created 
much  excitement  at  home,  and  in  mercantile  circles. 

While  in  Aden  I  was  fond  of  visiting  the  little  wharf 
at  which  the  passengers  and  tourists  landed,  and  of 
watching  them  as  they  indulged  in  their  many  whims. 
Here  was  a  gay  French  lady  and.  consort,  bargaining 
for  a  pretty  gazelle,  held  by  an  Arab  boy ;  an  indul- 


118       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

gent  father  buying  fruits,  comfits,  and  little  toys,  for 
the  pale,  well-dressed  children  at  his  side.  There 
was  the  seeker  after  curiosities,  turning  over  lumps  of 
pure,  branching  white  and  colored  coral.  There  the 
English  ladies,  in  flounces  and  silks,  chaffered  with 
the  ostrich  feather  merchants,  and  besieged  by  beg- 
gars asking  for  "  buckshees."  Sailors  and  soldiers, 
Arab  and  negro,  civilian,  and  men-of-war  men,  all 
mingled  and  talking,  —  the  donkey  boys  leading  up 
their  animals;  the  "  chocadores,"  or  native  police, 
clad  in  blue,  with  yellow  and  red  turbans ;  and,  amid 
the  noise  of  the  escaping  steam,  the  chants  of  the 
lighter  gangs  as  they  moved  the  huge  barges,  formed 
a  busy  and  most  interesting  scene. 

The  high  power  of  the  English  is  manifested  in 
every  place  the  traveller  visits  in  the  Eastern  world. 
By  the  power  of  cold  steel,  muscle,  and  gunpowder, 
the  barbarous  nations  feel  the  power  of  Mr.  John 
Bull,  who  handles  the  natives  roughly  at  first,  and 
then  smoothes  the  victory  over  with  missionaries  and 
trade,  to  the  end,  that  his  own  interests  may  be  ad- 
vanced. The  English  farthing  is  converted  into  the 
hard  rupee.  Their  men-of-war  fill  the  natives  with 
fear.  English  cannon  planted  on  the  commanding 
points,  and  English  laws  established  in  the  courts, 
keep  the  natives  in  awe,  while  the  red  banner  of 
Britain  flies  from  every  place  where  a  shilling  can  be 
made. 

We  proposed  mounting  a  donkey,  and  going  to  the 
city  for  our  passports.  We  found  one  in  good  trim, 
and  ready  for  the  jaunt.    We  were  soon  astride ;  and 


^MH!!^i;;:ii;,;>u..,^ 


I 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.       119 

the  driv^er,  a  half-naked  boy,  with  a  sharp  stick  in 
hand,  beat  the  donk'  into  a  swift  gait.  Off  we  went, 
passing  the  police  station,  where  a  native  was  striking  a 
gong  to  inform  the  people  of  the  time  of  day,  and  soon 
reached  a  good,  substantial,  and  well-kept  McAdam- 
ized  road.  We  were  not  long  in  arriving  at  the  Half 
Way  House,  at  which  we  dismounted  to  obtain  a  cool 
drink  of  lime-juice,  and  a  few  cigars.  Soon  a  crowd 
of  jolly  man-of-war's  men  hove  in  sight,  laughing, 
shouting,  and  apparently  bound  to  make  the  most  of 
their  liberty.  We  enjoyed  our  smoke,  while  they 
went  into  the  house  to  indulge  in  tamarind,  and 
lime-juice  drink,  or  a  glass  of  rum.  Out  they  soon 
came,  each  one  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and  hard 
rupees  in  his  pocket.  The  drivers  had  been  well 
paid  at  the  Half  Way  House,  but  it  was  the  part  of 
wisdom  for  all  novices  in  donkey  riding,  to  keep  their 
eyes  open.  The  animals  were  running  with  all 
speed.  "  Where  are  you  bound  to  ?"  "  Take  care,  or 
I  '11  run  you  down  ! "  "  Hard  a  port,  you  lubber," 
and  "  Steady  as  she  goes,"  were  a  few  of  the  excla- 
mations we  heard.  The  donkeys  knew  well  the  part 
they  were  to  play,  and  as  we  neared  the  long  and 
muddy  ditch  that  lay  on  the  side  of  the  highway  —  a 
nice,  soft  place  in  which  to  throw  a  rider,  and  not 
kill  him,  —  the  mysterious  words  were  yelled  from 
the  throats  of  the  panting  drivers,  and  the  animals 
stopped  and  wheeled  about  as  quick  as  a  wink. 
What  a  collection  of  stars,  flying  men,  and  dry  mud 
was  then  to  be  seen.  There  we  were,  in  the  ditch ; 
and  away  went  the  donkeys  and  the  drivers  back  to 


120       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

the  port.  There  were  some  lucky  ones,  however, 
who  held  fast  to  their  animals,  as  they  knew  of 
these  tricks. 

We  got  up  as  best  we  could,  and  proceeded  on  the 
road  through  the  guarded  gate  and  fort,  where  the 
Sepoy  soldiers,  in  red  coats  and  cross-belts,  stood 
leaning  on  their  muskets.  Heavy  cannon  displayed 
their  iron  lips  through  the  embrasures  ;  the  shot  was 
neatly  piled  up  near  the  gun  carriages,  and  all  seemed 
in  good  order,  and  ready  for  emergency.  Before  us 
rose  a  high  stone  arch,  marking  the  spot  where  a 
fearful  battle  was  once  maintained  between  the  Arabs 
and  English,  in  which,  as  usual,  victory  was  gained 
by  the  white  men.  There,  in  the  cool  shade  of  the 
arch,  we  halted  to  rest,  and  note  the  characters  that 
came  within  range  of  our  observation.  Camels  and 
mules,  bearing  loads  of  wood,  bales  of  merchandise, 
or  gaily  dressed  riders,  were  constantly  passing. 
The  venders  of  fruit,  candies,  cakes  and  milk,  were 
there ;  the  juggler,  the  beggar,  and  the  Arab  girl, 
clad  in  robes  of  blue  or  purple,  a  pure  white  turban 
on  her  head,  rings  of  gold  and  silver  on  her  arms, 
and  a  winning  smile  on  her  features. 

From  this  we  sauntered  to  the  Canteen,  where  sol- 
diers and  sailors  were  eating  and  drinking,  as  though 
it  was  the  last  meal  of  shore  food  they  would  ever 
eat.  Pies,  cake,  milk,  meat,  ale,  eggs,  brandy,  fried 
onions,  mutton  chop,  and  fruit  of  all  kinds,  were  to 
be  had  there.  We  found  the  cook-shops  of  Aden  to 
be  institutions  of  considerable  note,  popular  places 
of  resort,  to  which  the  liberty  men  go,  as  soon  as 
^  hey  get  to  the  town. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       121 

We  looked  on,  as  curious  spectators,  for  some  time, 
and  then  wended  our  way  to  Playfairs,  to  get  our 
passports  out  of  Aden.  We  found  a  long  build- 
ing, standing  solitary  in  the  square,  within  which 
English  justice  is  meted  out  to  contending  parties. 
A  native  came  out  of  the  court-room,  and  threw  a 
handful  of  money  on  the  ground,  danced  about, 
beat  himself  with  rage,  and  tore  a  handful  of  hair  from 
his  head.  Having  finished  this  foolish  performance, 
he  picked  up  the  money,  rolled  it  in  his  waist  cloth, 
and  walked  away,  muttering  threats,  but  was  closely 
watched  by  a  chocadore. 

Near  by  stood  a  dashing  Arab  girl,  having  on  her 
feet  what  appeared  to  be  a  fine  pair  of  net-work 
socks,  but  upon  a  nearer  view,  we  saw  it  was  tattoo- 
ing, of  the  best  kind,  and,  to  gratify  our  curiosity, 
she  allowed  us  to  look  at  the  sentences  from  the  Ko- 
ran, stamped  upon  her  forehead  and  breast.  Rings  of 
solid  gold  on  her  ancles  gave  to  the  India  ink  orna- 
ments a  neat  and  rich  appearance.  I  was  pleasantly 
engaged,  smiling  and  chattering  in  a  mixture  of 
Arabic  and  English,  to  the  Arab  girl,  when  I  was 
called  by  an  official,  who  came  to  the  door,  and 
politely  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  magistrate. 
Our  passports  were  duly  made  out  and  signed,  and, 
as  American  subjects,  we  were  at  liberty  to  leave  Her 
Majesty's  dominions  in  an  English  ship.  It  was  our 
only  chance  to  leave  the  port  of  Aden,  and  one  step 
nearer  home. 

With  good  recommendations  and  papers,  we  were 
all  prepared  to  strike  out  on  new  paths  of  adventure. 


122       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

Accordingly  we  went  straight  down  to  the  port,  and 
were** fortunate  enough  to  stumble  upon  a  Capt. 
Smith,  of  the  English  ship  Charger,  who  agreed  to 
let  us  work  our  passage  to  the  port  of  Bombay.  We 
then  sauntered  to  our  old  boarding-house  (thanks  to 
the  rain,  it  had  been  nicely  cleaned  and  repaired,)  and 
entered  to  take  our  last  meal,  and  last  night's  repose 
in  that  tumbled  bed. 

As  soon  as  day  dawned,  we  were  on  the  wharf,  eat- 
ing fresh  dates,  and  looking  for  the  Charger's  boat, 
which  soon  appeared,  rowed  by  two  frowsy-headed 
boys,  who  were  too  lazy  to  lift  the  oars  in  style.  We 
turned  the  boat,  and  seated  ourselves  on  the  thwarts, 
and  pulled  to  the  ship.  Capt.  Smith  looked  at  us 
from  the  moment  we  left  the  wharf,  and  as  soon 
as  the  boat  struck  the  side,  he  exclaimed,  "you 
are  the  lads  for  my  boat :  you  can  pull  side  and 
feather  stroke.  I  want  you  in  that  boat.  Ship's 
boys,  come  out  of  that  and  stay  on  board  after  this." 
This  was  a  good  move  in  the  right  direction.  My 
friend  was  sent  to  the  port  forecastle,  and  I  was  al- 
lowed a  berth  in  the  forward  cabin.  The  steward,  a 
native  of  Greenock,  Scotland,  came  to  me  and  said, 
"  I  have  coaxed  the  old  man  to  let  you  stay  with  me. 
I  have  never  had  a  Yankee  companion ;  and  if  you 
are  willing,  I  '11  give  you  a  good  place  to  sleep  in,  and 
cabin  grub,  for  I  sympathize  with  you."  This  was 
another  stroke  of  good  fortune  for  me,  and  the  stew- 
ard and  myself  held  good  friends  during  the  passage. 

The  Charger  was  a  one  thousand  ton  ship,  and 
hailed  from  Belfast,  L-elaud.    She  was  composed  of 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailot^s  Life.       123 

as  much  wood,  iron,  and  canvas  as  two  Yankee 
ships  of  the  same  tonnage,  and  was,  in  sailor  par- 
lance, "  a  perfect  brute."  She  carried  twenty-eight 
men  besides  the  officers,  and  her  cargo  of  coal  was 
nearly  all  worked  out.  It  was  a  duty  of  the  crew  to 
assist  in  unloading,  they  being  placed  at  one  hatch, 
and  a  gang  of  natives  at  the  other,  both  engaged  in 
hoisting  the  coal  from  the  hold,  and  dumping  it  into 
lighters  alongside.  My  friend  and  myself  had  been 
nicely  freed  of  that  duty,  and  while  in  port,  wo 
were  for  a  greater  part  of  the  time,  ashore  with  the 
Captain.  Our  companions  in  suffering  were  divided 
among  the  English  vessels  about  to  sail.  Bridges 
and  Pratt  went  to  the  "  Delganie,"  but  eventually 
sailed  for  London  in  the  ship  "  Annie."  Welch  had 
to  go  alone  in  the  "  Delganie "  to  Bombay.  We 
bade  each  other  a  last  and  kind  farewell,  and  went 
aboard  of  our  respective  vessels.  On  Sunday,  the 
ostrich-feather  merchants  came  to  the  Charger.  Be- 
ing in  rather  a  sportive  mood,  one  of  the  ship's  boys 
cut  open  a  large  bag  of  feathers,  and  the  crew  carried 
them  aloft  by  the  handful.  The  feather  sellers  were 
wild  with  rage,  but  as  the  splendid  plumes  were  danc- 
ing in  the  wind  from  the  cross-tree,  they  dared  not 
climb  up  after  them.  After  the  dealers  had  left,  the 
feathers  were  taken  down  and  shared  among  the  crew. 
This  is  but  a  sample  of  the  tricks  that  are  prac- 
tised by  sailors  when  lying  in  foreign  ports. 


124       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life, 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Clearing  the  Hawser  —  A  Day's  Liberty,  and  what  Came  of  It  — The 
"  Charger"  Underway—  Life  on  Board  a  "  Juicer  "  —  Lively  Ra- 
tions—Sick Men  attended  by  Rats— The  Dogs  Put  on  Duty  — 
I  become  a  Fancy  Painter  —  A  Rough  and  Tumble  Encounter  — 
Narrow  Escape  from  Another  Wreck  —  Among  the  Water  Snakes 
—  Nearing  Bombay  —  End  of  Sixty  Day's  Tacking. 


S  the  Charger  had  lain  in  port  many  weeks, 
with  both  anchors  down,  it  was  no  wonder 
that  her  chains  were  turned  and  wound  about 
each  other,  for  they  took  an  extra  twist  every  time 
the  vessel  swung  with  the  tide.  As  soon  as  the  last 
lighter  left  the  ship's  side,  the  men  went  to  work  to 
clear  the  hawser ;  this  was  done  by  paying  out  and 
unshackling  the  chain,  and  at  dusk  the  ship  swung 
by  one  heavy  anchor.  The  next  morning  the  Cap- 
tain gave  all  hands  a  day's  liberty  ;  and  well  dressed 
in  their  best  suits,  they  received  their  hard  silver, 
and  took  their  seats  in  the  boat.  We  pulled  them 
ashore,  and  returned  to  the  ship.  At  sundown  they 
began  to  return,  most  of  them  in  liquor,  and  ready 
for  a  fight,  while  those  who  were  sober,  brought  with 
them  a  number  of  ostrich  eggs,  baskets  and  dates, 
as  the  results  of  their  day's  adventure.  That  night 
one  man  fell  from  his  hammock,  and  injured  his  head 
so  badly  that  he  was  sent  to  the  hospital. 
The  neit  day  the  ship,  after'having  received  a  lot 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       125 

of  camel's  meat,  under  the  name  of  "  beef,"  was  put 
in  readiness  for  sea,  and  the  morning  that  followed 
witnessed  us  moving  down  the  harbor  to  take  aboard 
a  number  of  dogs  and  horses  that  a  military  and 
sporting  gentleman  wished  to  have  sent  to  Bombay. 
When  off  the  point,  the  anchor  was  dropped,  and  the 
lighter, with  the  animals  and  their  Hindoo  attendants 
was  made  fast  to  our  side.  The  horses  were  safely 
slung  aboard  by  stout  tackles  from  the  yards,  and 
the  dogs  passed  up  by  hand.  The  animals  had  a 
large  part  of  the  deck  set  off  in  frame-work  stalls 
and  benches  for  their  accommodation,  and  as  soon  as 
all  was  quiet,  the  lighter  was  cast  off,  and  its  men 
soon  warped  the  boat  to  the  shore.  Our  anchor  was 
then  hove  to  the  bow,  and  sail  made.  The  "  Delgan- 
ie  "  was  already  under  way,  and  borne  swiftly  along 
with  the  ebb  tide. 

Fourteen  days  is  a  fair  passage  for  a  sailing  vessel 
from  Aden  to  the  west  coast  of  Hindostan,  but  as 
the  monsoon  was  still  blowing,  it  would  take  our  old 
ark  many  weeks  to  cross  the  Persian  Gulf  We  ran 
down  the  shores  of  Arabia  that  night,  and  at  day- 
light were  alone  on  the  ocean.  The  north-east 
monsoon  was  fair  in  our  teeth,  and  we  saw  at  once 
that  we  must  beat  the  whole  distance  to  Bombay. 
We  stood  to  the  south  and  east  for  three  days,  when 
land  was  reported  on  our  starboard  bow ;  still  on  we 
went,  close-hauled  to  the  wind,  and  my  Yankee  curi- 
osity getting  the  better  of  me,  I  ascended  to  the  fore- 
royal  mast-head,  and  took  a  long,  steady  look  at  the 
land.    The  high,  towering  cliffs  were  familiar  to  my 


126       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof's  Life. 

eye,  and  could  not  be  mistaken.  The  dreaded  land, 
that  for  so  long  time  had  held  me  captive,  was  plainly 
in  view ;  it  was  Cape  Guardafui  that  was  looming  up  be- 
fore me.  I  felt  sick  at  heart,  and  descended  the  rigging 
in  time  to  hear  the  order,  "  stations  for  stays."  The 
wheel  was  rolled  down,  the  ship's  head  swung  to  the 
wind's  eye,  the  jibs  slatted  and  filled,  the  ponderous 
yards  flew  around  like  magic,  and  we  were  on 
the  other  tack,  making  a  north  half-westerly  course. 
Good  bye,  stern  old  cape,  you  never  shall  have  an- 
other chance  of  bleaching  my  bones. 

Every  fourth  hour,  day  and  night,  it  was,  "  stations 
for  stays,"  I  had  an  easy  part  to  sustain,  and  each 
man  had  his  station  and  duty.  But  this  "  all  hands  " 
sort  of  work  the  men  growled  at ;  it  is  an  old  saying, 
"  growl  you  may,  but  go  you  must,"  and  the  Charger's 
crew  fully  understood  it.  The  fresh  food  was  soon 
exhausted,  and  the  men  now  had  to  come  down  to 
sea-rations.  The  biscuit  would  walk  from  the  plate  if 
did  you  not  keep  an  eye  on  them  ;  every  cake  of  hard 
bread  was  put  in  pans  and  baked  over,  to  kill  the  live 
stock.  The  pork  was  good;  the  beef  was  so  hard 
that  the  men  tried  to  cut  images  and  boxes  from  it, 
but  it  always  split  in  the  grain.  The  day  that  rice 
and  molasses  were  served  was  the  best  of  the  week ; 
on  the  same  day  we  had  mashed  potatoes.  An 
American  crew  that  would  eat  the  Charger's  rations 
could  not  be  found.  Lime-juice  and  sugar  were  served 
out  to  all  hands  at  noon.  The  Hindoos  who  had 
charge  of  the  animals  had  plenty  to  eat  of  their  own 
stores.    The  fare  in  the  cabhi  was  a  little  better  than 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       127 

that  which  the  sailors  received ;  of  this  the  steward 
always  had  a  part  left  for  himself,  and  gave  me  my 
share.  No  wonder  that  before  the  ship  reached  Bom- 
bay, all  hands  in  the  forecastle  were  down  with  the 
scurvy  ;  but  after  the  fresh  vegetables  had  been  eaten 
for  a  week,  they  recovered.  One  of  the  Hindoos  said 
to  me,  "  Inglese  beef  no  good ;  bread  no  good ;  ship 
no  good  ;  but  de  Mericab  very  good."  I  thanked  him 
for  his  compliment. 

Two  of  the  men  were  taken  sick  and  confined  to 
their  hammocks  in  the  forward  cabin.  They  fought 
the  rats  at  night,  and  slept  during  the  day.  Many 
times  did  I  run  at  their  call,  to  dash  the  savage  in- 
truders away  from  the  poor  men  when  they  were  too 
weak  to  strike  at  them.  I  let  loose  about  twenty  of 
the  dogs,  one  day.  They  proved  excellent  ratters,  and 
after  that,  by  the  Captain's  orders,  the  dogs  had  free 
run  about  the  deck.  Some  hard  fights  ensued  between 
the  rats  and  the  dogs,  the  sailors  helping  the  latter, 
until  by  the  time  the  ship  reached  port,  not  a  rat 
could  be  found. 

The  English  seamen  were  full  of  boasting,  but  the 
others  bestowed  everything  but  blessings  on  the  ship 
and  its  owners,  every  time  they  came  on  deck.  They 
each  received  two-pound-ten  per  month,  and  that 
in  silver  or  gold.  The  tea  given  to  the  men  was 
strong  and  good,  but  the  coffee  was  a  mess  of  water 
bewitched,  the  fragrance  of  the  berry  being  lost  in 
dirty  water  and  tea  leaves  ;  this  the  crew  growled  at, 
and  refused  to  drink.  The  men  every  day  swallowed 
the  lime-juice,  and  then  the  off-watch  retired  to  the 


128       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

forecastle  to  make  and  rig  models,  and  fix  up  slush 
lamps ;  for  they  had  to  make  lamps  and  oil  by  their 
own  contrivance,  or  have  none  at  all.  I  painted  the 
steward's  chest  with  armorial  bearings  and  fancy  col- 
ored flags,  and  as  soon  as  the  Captain  saw  it,  he 
issued  the  order,  "  get  up  the  paints  and  oil,  and  set 
the  watch  to  mixing  them."  This  was  a  grand  time 
to  paint  a  ship, — fine  weather  and  a  drying  wind, 
and  he  was  bound  to  put  that  kind  of  work  right 
along.  Finding  that  I  had  some  knowledge  of  orna- 
mental painting,  he  ordered  me  to  do  my  best  in  that 
line,  and  in  three  days  I  had  the  job  finished  to  his 
satisfaction. 

My  popularity  with  the  men  before  the  mast  was 
from  that  time  gone  ;  and,  "  that  cussed  little  Yankee 
knows  too  much,"  was  an  every-day  expression.  At 
length  a  giant  of  a  man,  who  hailed  from  Kingston, 
a  man  that  I  had  taken  care  of  when  sick,  arose  and 
said,  "  I've  heard  enough  of  you  lubbers  jawing  that 
Yankee  youngster ;  he  is  the  most  active  and  kind- 
hearted  fellow  aboard  this  yere  hooker ;  show  me  the 
man  that  dare  say  another  ugly  word  against  him." 
Two  or  three  men  immediately  picked  a  quarrel  with 
the  bold  speaker ;  but  like  a  tiger  he  sprang  among 
them,  singled  out  his  assailants,  and  knocked  them 
about  like  wisps  of  straw.  The  cook,  a  little  French- 
man, who  owed  the  speaker  a  grudge,  joined  in  the 
melee.  Seeing  a  knife  gleaming  in  his  hand,  I  ran 
and  joined  the  combat,  and  with  one  good  kick,  sent 
the  cook  hors-de-combat.  The  giant  grasped  my 
hand  and  said,  "  I  can  whip  any  four  of  them ;  I 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       129 

have  been  here  more  than  once,  and  can  go  in  again," 
The  cook  ran  to  his  galley  for  an  axe,  and  having 
found  it,  jumped  at  my  noble  friend,  but  the  latter 
put  forth  his  long,  brawny  arms,  seized  the  excited 
little  Frenchman,  wrested  the  axe  from  his  hand,  and 
then  took  him  up  and  dashed  him  under  the  spars 
that  were  lashed  on  deck.  From  that  time  forward, 
the  men  had  no  more  to  say  about  "  the  cussed 
Yank ; "  the  huge  fist  and  ready  eye  were  always  near 
them  when  I  appeared  on  the  deck.  They  all  made 
fast  friends  with  me,  except  the  burley-headed  English- 
man, who  seemed  to  have  an  iceberg  for  a  heart  that 
kind  acts  or  civility  could  not  thaw  ;  instead  of  grow- 
ing more  pliable  and  friendly,  he  grew  more  ugly 
each  day.  My  friend  called  him  out,  and  not  com- 
ing when  he  was  called ,^my  champion  brought  him 
forth  and  nearly  broke  his  back  for  his  unmanly  dis- 
position, closing  his  performance  with,  "  Now,  you 
go  and  make  friends  with  Ned,  or  I'll  swab  the  deck 
with  your  lazy  carcass."  He  quickly  obeyed  this 
mandate,  and  looking  like  a  used-up  man,  came  and 
said  to  me,  "  I  have  run  you  down  hill  long  enough, 
if  you  did  do  the  painting,  and  set  us  all  to  work, 
don't  let  us  speak  one  to  another  the  rest  of  the  trip. 
But  I  '11  be  square  with  big  Bill  before  we  get  home." 
This  was  but  a  specimen  of  this  shipmate's  quarrel- 
ing, yet  when  the  scurvy  had  eaten  into  his  flesh,  he 
was  as  humble  and  gentle  as  any  man  aboard  the 
ship ;  "  easy  blows  kill  the  devil,"  holds  good  with 
the  worst  of  seamen. 

We  ran  near  to  the  eastern  shore  of  Arabia,  and 


130       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life, 

still  the  Captain  stood  on.  I  had  just  relieved  the 
man  at  the  wheel,  and  as  the  ship  drew  near  to  the 
land,  I  took  a  long  look  at  the  rocks  and  white  sand- 
hills. "  Captain,"  said  I,  "  don't  you  see  the  glint  of 
gun  barrels  behind  those  rocks  and  hills  ?  "  He  took 
his  glass,  and  after  a  long  squint  through  it,  exclaimed, 
"  Yes,  I  do  ;  and  naked  men  also.  Stations  for  stays  ; 
roll  the  wheel  down,  my  lad.  Hard  a-lee.  All  for- 
ward haul.  Main  topsail,  haul.  By  jingoes,  I  be- 
lieve the  hounds  can  reach  us  with  their  long  guns. 
The  water  is  very  shoal  here."  The  ship,  as  she 
came  on  the  other  tack,  turned  up  sand  and  discolored 
water.  With  a  light  heart  I  righted  the  wheel ;  the 
ponderous  craft  had  escaped  the  danger. 

The  Charger  carried  a  heavy  press  of  sail,  but 
was  a  dull  sailer  ;  rolling  topsail  yards,  and  patent 
reefing  gear,  were  the  only  easy  work  on  her.  The 
rigging  was  poor,  and  the  men  had  a  lively  time 
when  a  squall  struck  her.  It  was  near  the  change  of 
the  monsoon  ;  the  sky  was  dull  and  brassy,  and  the 
stifling  heat  became  more  oppressive  each  day,  and 
we  heartily  wished  ourselves  safe  in  Bombay.  All 
the  heavy  work  was  done  while  the  men  chanted, 
the  singing  making  our  work  lighter.  There  were 
some  fine  voices  among  the  crew,  and  in  the  dog- 
watches all  kinds  of  songs  were  sung.  "  We're  Rol- 
ling Home,"  "  Radcliffe  Highway,"  "  Annie  Laurie," 
and  "  The  Wild  Boy,"  were  the  favorites.  The  scurvy 
had  reduced  the  crew  to  twelve  men,  but  as  every 
tack  took  us  nearer  Bombay,  the  men  grew  more 
cheerful. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.       131 

We  now  met  many  little  native  vessels  running  off 
from  the  land,  and  knew  that  the  port  was  not  far  dis- 
tant. We  had  been  fifty-four  days  at  sea,  and  were 
tired  out  with  beating  the  ship  to  the  windward.  The 
water  about  us  was  full  of  long  water-snakes,  black  on 
the  upper  part  of  the  body,  and  white  beneath.  Sev- 
eral of  these  were  taken  in  nets  and  buckets,  and  meas- 
ured from  four  to  nine  feet  in  length.  Sharp  knives 
cu.t  their  heads  off,  and  the  bodies  lived  four  hours 
after  the  operation.  On  the  8th  of  January,  1861, 
after  three  days  of  pulling  and  hauling,  the  land  ap- 
peared in  sight,  and  the  blue  mountains  loomed  up 
in  the  distance.  Native  bungalows  swept  past  us ; 
the  stately,  homeward-bound  ships,  with  swelling  can- 
vas, and  we  ran  far  to  windward  the  ''  Delganie," 
just  about  to  enter  the  harbor.  The  pilot  boat,  paint- 
ed red,  and  well-manned  with  a  native  crew,  placed 
the  white  pilot  and  his  boy  on  our  deck.  The  sick 
men  crawled  from  their  low  hammocks  to  look  at  the 
land.  The  ship  was  put  about :  the  light-house  was 
in  sight ;  and  close  hauled  to  the  wind,  and  with  a 
fair  tide,  we  passed  smoothly  up  the  roads,  and  came 
to  anchor  in  the  harbor,  among  the  crowded  shipping 
of  many  nations.  Our  long  seige  of  sixty  days* 
beating  and  tacking  was  over. 


132       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 


CHAPTER    XIY. 

At  Bombay  —  Visit  to  the  Consul  —  Kind  Reception  —  A  "Bully" 
Captain  after  some  Men  —  A  General  Dislike  —  I  Run  the  Risk 
and  Ship  for  Home  —  A  Strange  Crew  —  The  "Boy  Bill"  — 
Rough  Sport  —  The  Cargo  and  Manner  of  Loading  —  "Yankee 
Ned  "  in  the  Tank  —  Bum-Boats  and  their  Stock  in  Trade  —  One 
Day  Ashore — Palanquins  —  Banyan  Trees — Myriads  of  Doves 
—  Ready  for  Sea  —  The  Pilot  Aboard  —  A  trial  of  Speed  —  Our 
Yankee  Clipper  Wins. 


S  quick  as  our  light  crew  could  work,  the  sails 
were  furled,  and  everything  made  snug  ;  eve- 
ry rope  on  its  proper  pin,  and  the  rigging  that 
hung  in  bights  separated  and  hauled  taut.  The 
decks  were  swept,  and  the  quarter  boat  lowered,  and 
soon  we  were  ready  to  accompany  the  Captain  ashore. 
The  sick  men  sat  on  the  bitts  and  windlass,  eating 
raw  potatoes  and  onions, procured  from  a  shore  boat; 
the  natives  were  besieging  the  steward  and  cook  for 
their  patronage.  Some  of  the  crew  were  anticipat- 
ing a  jolly  time,  as  soon  they  had  a  liberty  day  given 
to  them,  and  others  were  fast  running  themselves  in 
debt,  by  purchasing  every  kind  of  nick-nack  that 
came  to  hand. 

"  Boat  is  ready,  sir." 

"  Charley,  toss  those  pad  fenders  out.  Cushions 
all  right." 

Down  comes  the  Captain,  a  large  umbrella  in  his 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       133 

hand,  and  a  helmet  hat  on  his  head,  —  a  perfect 
picture  of.  content,  as  he  put  his  long  legs  on  the 
cushion,  and  took  a  backward  look  at  his  clumsy, 
black  ship.  Before  us  was  Bombay  in  its  glory ; 
not  the  old  Bombay  in  Sepoy  hands,  when  the 
white  man  expected  to  have  the  guns  of  the  dark 
fortress  turned  upon  him,  but  a  large,  thriving  city, 
teeming  with  wealth  from  China  to  England.  The 
harbor  was  full  of  ships ;  the  bundas  lined  with 
boats,  the  store  houses  full  to  excess,  of  the  pro- 
ducts of  every  zone.  Hotels  and  printing  offices ; 
merchants'  exchange ;  grand  old  ruins,  and  pal- 
aces of  the  nabobs ;  streets  lined  with  shops,  in 
which  everything  a  stranger  can  want,  may  be  pro- 
cured ;  clothing  shops,  curiosity  bazaars,  coffee 
houses,  and  a  theatre.  Verily,  the  genius  of  John 
Bull  has  brought  the  heathen  to  an  advanced  state, 
for  his  own  interests,  and  so  long  as  the  bars  of  ru- 
pees come  to  his  own  treasury,  he  is  content. 

In  glided  our  boat  to  the  Burra  Bunda,  and  there 
we  were,  among  large  and  small  dows,  lighters,  bun- 
galows and  merchant  boats  of  every  kind ;  the  sail- 
ors were  lounging  in  their  boats,  under  the  awnings, 
eating  fruit,  smoking,  and  telling  tough  yarns.  The 
natives  on  the  wharf,  clad  in  light  garments,  were 
selling  all  kinds  of  fruit,  cakes,  and  toddy  rum 
to  the  sailors  who  had  a  few  annas  to  spare ;  all 
kinds  of  carved  work  were  thrust  upon  us, — fans, 
boxes,  pipes,  and  sugar  cane.  The  natives  were  skip- 
ping about,  as  merry  as  larks,  changing  the  gold  to 
silver  and  copper.     The  custom-house  officials  were 


134       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

inspecting  every  article  that  was  landed  at  the  bunda, 
and  smoking  their  hubble-bubble  pipes  constantly. 
We  followed  the  Captain  through  the  crowd,  to  the 
American  Consul's  office.  There  we  found  some 
dozen  seamen,  each  endeavoring  to  have  his  claims 
settled ;  but  without  ceremony,  our  Captain  made 
known  his  business  to  the  Consul. 

The  first  thing  that  greeted  my  eye  was  a  large 
notice, — 

"  THESE  ROOMS  ARE  HOT  AND  SICKLY." 

What  do  we  care  for  that  ?  Why  don't  he  ventilate 
the  apartment.  It  is  only  a  clever  dodge  to  keep  the 
begging  seamen  out ;  but  still  they  are  always  here, 
and  will  not  vacate  until  they  get  suited  with  a  good 
chance.  The  Consul  heard  our  story,  and  then  said, 
"  There  are  four  ships  here  that  are  going  to  the 
States ;  you  can  take  your  choice.  The  "  Spirit  of 
the  Times  "  goes  first,  the  "  Typhoon  "  next,  and  the 
"  James  Robinson  "  and  "Minnehaha"  will  follow." 
The  men  at  the  door  beckoned  to  me,  and  I  went  to 
them.  "  Don't  you  go  in  the  '  Times,'  she  is  a  hard 
boat,  and  the  captain  shows  too  much  spirit  for  us. 
She  is  a  prison  afloat,  and  is  just  from  China,  where 
half  of  the  men  ran  away ;  here  comes  the  captain ; 
the  old  tyrant.'* 

In  came  a  hard-featured  individual,  dressed  in 
snowy  white,  a  flashy  gold  chain  dangling  on  his  vest ; 
and  puffing  like  a  pair  of  bellows.  The  loungers 
shrank  back  as  he  strode  into  the  room,  and  looked 
about.     He  spoke  in  a  short,  snappish  tone,  and  I  saw 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       135 

that  his  words  and  manner  were  all  bravado,  the  mo- 
ment he  came  in.  The  Consul  told  our  story,  and  the 
Captainjerked  himself  about  and  exclaimed,  "  I  want 
men,  and  must  have  them.  —  Won't  you  go,"  he 
inquired,  fixing  his  hard,  gray  eye  on  me. 

"  Yes,  I  '11  go,"  I  replied,  "  I  shall  get  to  the  States 
in  your  ship  as  soon  as  in  any." 

"And  you,  too,  you'll  go  of  course  ?"  said  the  Cap- 
tain. 

"  Yes,  I  am  there  if  you  are  willing,"  answered 
my  chum. 

"  Well,  I  like  that  in  you ;  nine  dollars  a  month, 
and  plenty  to  eat;  you  can't  growl  at  that." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  English  Captain,  "  these  young 
men  have  been  on  hand  for  all  emergencies,  day  and 
night,  since  Ve  left  Aden.  I  hope  they  will  do  as  well 
under  you  with  wages,  as  they  have  labored  for  noth- 
ing on  my  ship.  Good  bye,  Yankee  Ned  ;  good  bye, 
Charley  ;  do  right  and  you  will  get  along  well  enough. 
Take  my  boat  and  go  aboard,  and  collect  your  little 
traps,  I  shall  go  off  in  a  dingy.  Good  bye,  lads," 
and  away  went  the  Englishman  to  his  consignees. 

"Don't  one  of  you  want  to  ship  ?"  asked  the  hard- 
looking  captain,  as  he  turned  to  the  seamen  who 
stood  wondering  at  our  hastiness. 

"  No  sir,"  one  of  them  answered,  "  We'll  hang  out 
here  till  all  is  blue,  before  we  take  your  saucy  clipper 
for  a  bridge  to  the  States." 

"  Oh,  that  is  what  you  all  say;  but  you  may  find 
harder  men  than  me  and  my  mates,"  and  rising  he 
continued,  "  you  men  who  have  shipped  with  me, 


136       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

will  please  sign  the  articles,  and  go  on  board  to-day  ; 
report  to  Mr.  Benson,  and  go  about  your  duty." 

I  saw  that  this  Captain  had  a  great  swagger,  but 
felt  sure  that  he  would  treat  men  like  men,  when  he 
understood  the  character  of  those  he  had  shipped. 
He  rolled  out  of  the  office,  casting  a  bitter  glance  at 
those  who  filled  the  entry  as  he  passed.  Mr.  Fair- 
field gave  us  all  the  needful  garments,  besides  shoes 
and  socks,  and  we  were  soon  skimming  back  to 
the  Charger.  Our  dinner  was  soon  put  out  of  sight, 
and  then,  after  bidding  farewell  to  the  crew,  and 
receiving  many  little  tokens  of  kindness  from  their 
hands,  we  left  the  ship,  and  the  boys  pulled  us  to  the 
Spirit  of  the  Times  that  lay  up  the  inner  harbor. 

We  approached  the  high,  round  stern,  and  were 
much  gratified  in  looking  upon  the  carving  and 
gilding,  and  the  white  letters,  "  New  York,"  which 
looked  home-like  to  our  eyes.  We  mounted  the  lad- 
der, and  stepped  upon  the  long,  smooth  deck.  Every- 
thing looked  clean  and  ship-shape.  We  reported  to 
the  mate,  and  then  went  to  our  berths  to  stow  away 
our  luggage,  and  put  on  our  working  rig  of  every- 
day clothes.  The  lighters  were  not  alongside,  so  the 
men  had  an  opportunity  to  take  a  resting  spell. 
There  was  a  motley  crowd  on  deck  ;  men  from  every 
nation  of  sea-going  people.  Dutch,  Irish,  English, 
Kanaka,  Portuguese,  and  Scotch,  and  three  Yankees 
in  a  crew  of  twenty  men.  The  mate's  voice  rang 
out,  "  Here,"  you  boy  Bill,  get  your  broom  along  this 
way." 

"  Lay  up  there,  Cleaves,  and  bind  that  worming  to 
the  stay." 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       137 

"  You,  Peter  and  Jacob,  come  here  and  wet  the 
deck." 

"  Boy  Bill,  what  are  you  saying  ?  " 

"  Nothing  sir,"  he  answered,  as  he  folded  his  little 
bare  arms  over  the  broomstick,  and  his  large  eyes 
looked  saucily  at  the  mate. 

"  Ah,  you  Bill,  you  are  the  most  delving,  prying, 
saucy  cuss  in  this  world.  Don't  you  heave  any  more 
butcher  knives  at  me.  I'm  glad  the  Captain  will 
send  you  home  ;  go  to  work,  you  young  cuss,  do  you 
hear?  quick." 

This  "  Boy  Bill,"  as  the  men  called  him,  was  as 
handsome,  agile  and  clean  a  lad  as  ever  trod  a  plank. 
He  had  a  fine  head,  was  as  keen  and  bright  as  a 
sword,  with  a  splendidly  formed  body,  yet  he  was 
only  twelve  years  old.  His  round,  smooth  arms  were 
covered  with  India-ink  marks  in  which  he  gloried,  and 
in  his  room,  in  the  boys'  house,  he  had  all  kinds  of 
rare  and  fancy  toys  that  he  bought  in  China.  He 
had  joined  the  ship  in  Liverpool,  and  young  as  he  was, 
drank  the  strongest  rum,  chewed  and  smoked  tobac- 
co most  of  the  time,  and  was  up  to  every  kind  of 
deviltry  that  his  quick  and  fertile  brain  could  devise. 

"  There,"  said  the  Captain,  "  is  the  hardest  boy  I 
ever  saw,  or  expect  to  see.  Banging  and  confinement, 
hunger,  work,  or  any  punishment  will  not  break  his 
high  spirit ;  he  is  the  only  smart  little  fellow  I  have 
seen  for  years,  yet  I  shall  send  him  home  on  the  first 
vessel  that  goes  and  will  take  him."  The  Captain 
confined  him  in  the  hold,  but  was  glad  enough  to  free 
him  and  let  him  come  on  deck,  for  his  yells  of  mad- 


138       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

ness  and  blasphemous  songs,  made  even  the  men,  hard 
old  tars  as  they  were,  look  surprised. 

That  night,  when  he  had  finished  his  supper  and 
smoked,  I  called  him  into  his  room,  and  we  sat  down 
on  the  camphor-wood  chests.  I  talked  kindly  on  dif- 
ferent subjects,  and  at  length  asked,  "  Bill,  have  you 
a  mother  living  ?  "  He  threw  back  his  dark  hair,  and 
with  his  gleaming  eyes  fixed  upon  me,  exclaimed,. 
"  Yes  ;  and  0,  my  God,  what  am  I  ?  0,  my  mother, 
God  forgive  me."  His  head  fell  on  the  pillow  of  his 
mattress,  and  he  cried  as  if  his  heart  would  break.  He 
had  his  cry  out,  and  then  said,  - — 

"0,  Ned,  you  are  the  first  person  that  has  spoken 
a  kind  word  to  me  since  I  ran  away  from  home.  0, 
my  mother,  I  '11  be  a  better  boy  as  soon  as  I  quit  this 
ship." 

I  had  touched  the  right  string,  and  when  he  left  the 
ship,  he  wanted  to  leave  to  me  all  his  little  curiosities, 
none  of  which  would  I  take,  except  a  small  Chinese 
idol,  to  remember  him  by.  Thus,  many  a  youth  is 
like  "  Boy  Bill,"  when  he  slips  from  home  and  a  moth- 
er's care,  and  if  he  gets  with  a  hard  set  of  men,  he 
becomes  as  near  like  them  as  he  can  be.  No  boy 
should  go  to  sea,  unless  he  goes  with  a  good  christian 
captain ;  and  even  then  he  may  be  ruined  if  he  has 
not  the  moral  courage  to  stand  up  boldly  against  the 
thousand  wiles  of  the  artful  enemy. 

There  was  a  quarrel  the  second  night  that  we  were 
aboard.  One  of  the  mates  had  his  head  severely 
injured  by  a  heavy  bottle  in  the  hands  of  one  of  the 
men,  who  hailed  from  Kentucky.     This  mate  was  a 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       139 

drunken,  quarreling  man,  a  giant  in  bulk  and  strength, 
and  a  brute  in  manners.  He  was  soon  taken  to  the 
hospital,  presenting  a  sickening  sight  as  he  left  the 
Bide  of  the  ship.  The  Chinese  steward  had  a  dispute 
with  my  chum,  and  as  he  came  out  of  his  house,  knife 
in  hand,  I  sprang  upon  and  disarmed  him.  Two  of 
the  men  had  a  fight  in  the  fo' castle,  and  beat  each 
other  so  badly  that  both  were  unfit  for  duty.  The 
natives  who  cooked  their  food  and  slept  aboard,  were 
always  at  swords'  points ;  and  I  soon  began  to  think  I 
had  got  on  board  of  a  hard  boat,  but  I  kept  aloof  from 
all  disputes  and  skirmishes,  and  soon  gained  the  favor 
of  ofiicers  and  men. 

The  cargo  came  faster  every  day.  The  wide  native 
boats  swept  down  the  muddy  river,  their  large  trian- 
gular sails  filled  out  with  the  flowing  breeze.  Letting 
the  sheets  fly,  they  put  their  helm  down,  and  came 
round  in  good  style,  alongside  of  the  ship.  The  crew 
of  the  bungalow  tossed  the  sacks  of  linseed  on  a  stag- 
ing ;  two  of  our  crew  pitched  them  through  the  port- 
hole, others  carried  them  to  their  proper  places,  and 
piled  them  in  rows  until  the  hold  was  filled.  We  then 
loaded  wool,  tea,  and  other  kinds  of  freight,  until  the 
"  'tween  decks  "  was  packed  full,  and  the  cargo  was 
all  in.  We  were  to  sail  in  about  a  week,  and  we  im- 
proved the  time  to  see  Bombay.  The  men  were  get- 
ting uneasy,  and  the  Captain  allowed  one  watch  at  a 
time  their  liberty.  I  patiently  waited  my  turn  for  a 
run  ashore,  and  did  not  trouble  the  Captain  for  money 
or  liberty. 

The  water  tank  that  held  twenty-two  hundred  gal- 


140       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

Ions,  and  reached  from  the  deck  to  keelson,  had  a 
large  oval  cover  of  cast  iron,  which  by  accident,  was 
dropped  to  the  bottom  of  the  tank,  then  containing 
about  nine  feet  of  water.  Every  method,  to  pick  up 
the  heavy  cover,  was  tried,  but  failed:  some  one 
must  go  down  into  the  tank  and  raise  the  iron. 
The  men  did  not  like  the  idea  of  doing  so,  and  I 
offered  my  services  to  recover  it.  I  descended  with 
a  rope  under  my  arms,  and  at  the  seventh  dive  raised 
the  cover.  Chilled  and  confused  by  the  icy-cold 
water  and  loud  echoes,  I  was  drawn  safely  up  and 
rubbed  with  flannels  and  liquor,  and  to  my  great  sur- 
prise and  satisfaction,  had  a  few  rupees  and  a  two 
days'  liberty  given  me. 

On  Sunday  the  "  bum-boats"  were  always  alongside, 
and  in  them  could  be  found  every  kind  of  article  to 
please  a  sailor's  fancy.  The  boatmen  were  always 
ready  to  trade  or  exchange  books,  boots,  clothing  or 
anything  else  that  came  handy.  "  Changee  for 
changee,  John,"  was  the  cry.  Thin  boots  at  a  dol- 
lar a  pair ;  a  song  book  and  a  Bible  tied  together  for 
a  dollar ;  army  clothes,  dates  fresh  from  the  tree ; 
ginger  from  China ;  silks,  fans,  sandal  wood,  ivory, 
curious  work-boxes,  needles,  liquor,  flags,  monkeys, 
grapes,  guaras,  cocoa-nut  oil  in  large  quantities 
cheap.  These,  with  ottar  of  roses,  and  splendid  per- 
fumes in  a  heap,  with  eggs,  toys,  ostrich  feathers  and 
tomatoes,  formed  a  collection  that  pleased  all  hands. 
Indeed,  there  arc  many  pleasant  hours  spent  in  the 
bum-boats  of  the  natives  in  the  large  East  India  ports, 
and  many  little  articles  can  be  seen  in  the  quiet  homes 


Seven  Years  of  q  Sailor's  Life,       141 

df  New  England  towns  and  villages,  that  were  pur- 
chased from  these  floating  shopmen. 

I  had  a  fine  time  ashore  on  liberty  day,  and  I  went 
alone.  For  eight  annas  I  hired  a  rude  buggy  drawn 
by  a  mule,  and  was  carried  safely  through  the  streets 
and  out  into  the  open  country.  I  passed  palanquins 
occupied  by  lazy  Europeans,  and  borne  on  the  shoul- 
ders of  natives,  who  went  at  a  dog  trot,  the  perspira- 
tion rolling  down  their  dark  faces,  while  they  kept 
up  their  running  chant;  cemetaries  with  their  tall 
columns  and  ghostly  headstones ;  groves  of  cocoa- 
nut  trees,  and  fields  of  bright  flowers.  The  banyan 
tree,  with  its  numerous  trunks,  afforded  me  a  cool 
shade,  and  I  became  interested  in  the  palaces,  and 
temples,  and  fields  of  rice  and  cane.  During  the 
ride  I  met  natives,  whites,  pagans,  and  Jews,  bond 
and  free:  crippled  beggars  and  handsome  Hindoo 
girls,  the  latter  with  heavy  jars  of  water  on  their 
heads.  After  a  long  and  pleasant  jaunt  I  turned 
the  mule's  head  to  the  stable,  and,  as  I  gave  the 
ostler  his  "  buckshees,"  or  perquisite,  I  cast  my 
eye  across  the  road,  and  saw  an  immense  flock  of 
doves.  The  noise  made  by  their  flight  sounded  like 
the  rumble  of  distant  thunder,  and  when  they  set- 
tled, they  covered  the  square  from  side  to  side.  The 
doves  are  highly  cared  for,  and  any  person  shooting 
or  maiming  one  of  them  being  heavily  fined. 

I  wended  my  way  to  the  ship,  my  arms  full  of  curi- 
osities and  fruit,  and  found  it  ready  for  sea,  and  wait- 
ing for  the  pilot.  I  looked  at  her  fine,  sharp  bow 
and  clean  sides,  and  thought  her  a  beauty.     The  next 


142       Seven  Years  of.  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

day,  after  dinner,  the  old  pilot  came  aboard.  "  Come 
lads,  show  your  muscle  and  the  ship's  heels,  and 
beat  that  steamer  just  weighing  anchor."  The 
men  sprung  to  duty ;  the  anchor  was  lifted  from  its 
slimy  bed,  the  men  singing  "  Rolling  River "  and 
*'  Cheerily  she  goes ; "  the  fluke  of  the  anchor  was 
out  of  water;  the  sails  run  up  and  sheeted  home, 
and  with  a  famous  wind,  the  ship,  with  flying  colors, 
left  her  berth.  The  steamer  did  her  best  to  beat  tis; 
the  crews  of  the  ships  at  anchor  cheered.  Our  gay 
old  ship  heeled  to  leeward,  and  split  the  water  into 
foam,  as,  like  a  racer,  she  cleft  her  way  with  wind 
and  tide.  Soon  the  steamer  was  far  astern,  and  as 
we  hove  the  ship  to,  oflf  the  light-house,  the  pilot  left 
us  ;  his  last  words  to  the  Captain  being  :  —  "  Your 
Yankee  clipper  can  beat  the  sailing  world  all  hollow." 


Sevejt  Years  of  a  Sailor^s  Life.       143 


CHAPTER    XY. 

Homeward  Bound  —  Good  Living  —  Mysterious  disappearance  of 
Poultry  —  Something  Like  a  Race  —  A  Terrific  Squall  —  Doub- 
ling th2  Cape  of  Good  Hope  —  In  the  "  Trades  "  —  All  Hands 
Busy — Antics  of  the  Live  Stock  —  Laughable  Adventures  of  a 
Pfg  —  Catching  Porpoises — A  Battle  with  a  Shark — Death  of 
the  Cook  —  An  Inhuman  Burial  —  In  a  Calm  —  Any  work  Rather 
than  no  Work  —  Squally  Weather  Returned  —  A  Roll  in  the 
Scuppers  —  Off  Bermuda. 


PTER  the  pilot  left  us,  and  dashed  away 
ill  his  small  boat  to  the  large  one  that  was 
fast  approaching,  we  squared  the  yards,  and 
were  far  out  of  sight  of  the  steamer  before  dusk. 
Our  deck  was  encumbered  with  pigs,  goats,  ducks, 
and  fowls.  Fresh  vegetables  in  baskets  were  piled 
up  all  around  the  deck,  and  the  water  tank  had 
been  newly  filled.  It  took  all  of  the  next  day  to  put 
the  articles  in  their  proper  places,  and  to  clear  up  the 
decks  to  our  satisfaction.  Every  man  knew  the  part 
he  was  to  perform,  and  the  watch  he  was  in,  and  we 
quietly  settled  down  into  the  old  monotony  of  sea  life. 
Our  second  mate  was  a  gentleman  and  a  sailor,  and 
even  the  first  mate,  stern  as  he  was,  relaxed  for  the 
time  his  usual  vigilance  over  the  men.  We  were 
homeward  bound.  Yes,  and  the  clipper  was  reeling 
off  the  knots  at  a  good  pace.  The  weather  was  fair, 
and  the  moon  shone  in  all  its  silvery  beauty,  as  we 


144       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

danced  away  over  the  Indian  Ocean ;  and  every  body 
but  the  Captain  had  a  happy  face.  We  had  left  the 
land  of  Arabs  and  Hindoos  never  to  return  to  its  hot 
and  sickly  shores.  A  trackless  path  was  before  us,  a 
lost  trail  behind;  and,  like  an  albatross,  the  canvas- 
clouded  ship  was  lessening  the  thousands  of  miles  of 
water  that  lay  between  us  and  home.  I  did  not  hear 
the  crew  speak  of  the  sights  they  had  observed  on 
shore,  or  the  caves  of  Elephantea,  where  the  huge 
stone  idols  stand,  nor  of  the  splendid  palaces  they 
leaned  against  when  they  were  tipsy  ;  but  "  old  Tom," 
Portuguese  girls,  and  a  free  fight,  were  mostly  the 
topics  of  conversation  that  occupied  their  time  in 
the  dog  watches. 

Baskets  of  onions  and  potatoes  were  hid  away, 
but  some  of  the  crew  found  them,  and  night  after 
night  stole  the  onions  to  eat  in  their  mid-watches. 
The  large  coop  contained  about  one  hundred  and  forty 
fowls,  and  every  egg  that  was  laid  was  drank  in  the 
men's  coffee  at  six  bells.  Sometimes  three  or  four 
dead  hens  would  be  found  in  a  single  day,  and  they 
died  off  so  fast  with  a  broken  neck  that  the  men  had 
tlieir  share  of  them ;  every  two  weeks  a  pig  was  butch- 
ered and  the  crew  rejoiced  in  sea  pie  and  duff.  We 
had  good  living  and  enough,  but  the  Captain  some- 
times cast  a  black  look  at  us  as  we  gathered  around 
the  mess-kid.  Standing  with  folded  arm  and  his  pipe 
in  his  mouth,  he  seemed  to  say,  —  '^  Go  it,  my  dears, 
put  my  profits  in  your  hungry  stomachs,  but  by-and- 
bye  I  '11  work  it  out  of  you."  He  was  nervous,  and 
excitable,  running  to  the   dock  at  all  hours  of  tho 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       145 

night,  prying  into  every  hole  and  corner,  and  mak- 
ing the  men  take  a  pull  at  the  sheets  and  halyards 
when  they  could  not  gain  an  inch. 

We  were  soon  off  Maritius  Island,  and  had  squally 
and  rough  weather.  I  have  seen  that  ship  lugging 
topmast  studding-sails  when  hauled  on  the  wind  when 
the  top-gallant  sails  were  furled.  She  worked  up  to 
windward  like  a  pilot  boat,  and  no  ship  that  we  met 
outsailed  us.  We  came  up  to  the  English  ship 
"  Shakespeare,"  and  kept  along  with  her  two  days. 
Every  rag  of  sail-cloth  was  set  by  the  English  ship  to 
keep  her  within  hailing  distance,  and  yet  we  drew 
away  from  her.  It  was  a  lovely  day ;  no  sign  of  a 
squall  presented  itself,  and  the  ''  Shakespeare,"  under 
a  cloud  of  canvas,  was  staggering  along  in  our  wake. 
Our  Captain  came  on  deck,  snuffed  the  air,  and  looked 
around  the  horizon,  and  then  in  nervous  haste  ordered 
the  light  sails  to  be  taken  in,  and  topsails  secured. 
The  men  who  were  on  deck  soon  had  them  roped  up 
in  good  shape,  and  the  Captain  exclaimed,  —  ^'  Come 
on,  old  Squall,  I  'm  all  ready  for  you ;  "  and  then  to 
the  ship  behind  us,  — "  You  'd  better  take  in  your 
muslin  there,  astern,  or  you  will  lose  it." 

The  wind  had  died  away  to  little  puffs,  while  ahead 
of  us  the  clouds  were  gathering  in  battle  array.  The 
men  ran  to  throw  their  dirty  clothes  in  buckets  and 
tubs.  The  squall  rushed  over  the  water,  raising  a 
Bolid  wall  of  foam  as  the  wind  swept  over  it.  The 
clouds  were  as  black  as  ink  in  one  spot,  and  from  the 
centre  poured  forth  sheets  of  hot,  blinding  rain.  It 
struck  us  like  an  avalanche  ;  but  the  strong  ship  met 


146       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life. 

the  white  wall  in  fine  style,  and  poking  her  long,  black 
bows  through  the  foam,  she  staggered  and  rose  to  an 
upright  keel,  and  like  a  thing  of  life,  scud  before  the 
fury  of  the  white  squall.  Blinding  flashes  of  fire 
streamed  across  the  sky.  The  thunder  cracked  and 
echoed  like  a  dozen  cannon  fired  at  once.  The  deck 
was  flooded,  and  swashed  slowly  from  side  to  side  as 
the  high  waves  tumbled  the  ship  about.  But  where 
is  the  English  ship  ?  Why,  there  she  is  ;  sails  half 
furled  ;  jibs  and  top-gallant  sails  blown  to  ribbons. 
The  squall  was  over.  It  went  muttering  and  rushing 
away  to  leeward,  and  we  were  all  right.  The  sun 
broke  through  the  parting  clouds  in  gorgeous  splen- 
dor. The  wind  came  fair ;  both  vessels  were  on  their 
regular  course,  and  that  night  we  rau  away  from  the 
"  Shakespeare,"  and  at  sunrise  were  all  alone  ou  the 
ocean. 

We  held  the  fine  weather  and  fair  wind,  and  in 
quick  time  doubled  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  The 
season  was  mild,  and  we  ran  near  to  the  shore,  the 
table  lands  looming  up  blue  in  the  distance.  At  that 
point  we  met  an  ice  ship  and  a  barque  from  the 
good  city  of  Boston,  bound  to  Bombay.  From  it  we 
received  home  papers,  and  a  happier  man  never  existed 
than  myself  when  I  pored  over  them  and  read  of 
familiar  scenes  and  places.  We  were  well  to  the 
westward  of  the  land  when  a  hurricane  overtook  us ; 
but  by  the  exercise  of  good  seaman- ship  and  the  use 
of  a  stout  suit  of  sails,  the  ship  was  saved.  Immense 
green  waves  broke  over  us  as  we  lay  hove  to,  and 
no  one  dared  go  forward  of  the  main-mast.    The 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       147 

gale  sung  and  shrieked  through  the  taut  rigging. 
With  only  a  spencer  set,  and  well  guyed,  the  long, 
sharp  hull  lay  nearly  head  to  these  running  seas,  and 
generally  went  through  them,  deluging  the  deck  with 
solid  cataracts  of  water.  The  land  was  in  sight  un- 
der the  lee,  and  we  thought  that  before  morning  we 
should  have  sand  in  our  teeth,  and  lie  dead  among 
the  splinters  of  our  ship.  But  a  merciful  Providence 
decreed  it  otherwise.  The  gale  abated  as  the  sun 
settled  in  the  west,  and  the  sea  came  in  more  regular 
waves  and  rolls.  The  morn  broke  through  black, 
rugged  masses  of  clouds,  and  cast  a  ghastly  light  on  the 
watery  scene.  Under  lower  topsail,  and  fore  staysail, 
the  ship  began  to  work  to  windward,  and  as  the  night 
watches  passed  into  daylight,  we  saw  the  low,  rocky 
land  sink  from  sight. 

Light  winds  and  calms  followed  this  last  gale,  and 
at  the  end  of  two  weeks  we  struck  into  the  S.  E. 
Trades.  The  steady,  clear  air  wafted  us  along,  and 
as  soon  as  we  had  the  full  influence  of  the  Trades' 
wind,  everything  was  set,  from  skysail  pole  to  the  wa- 
ter's edge.  Stunsails  were  set  from  royal  to  the  rail 
on  both  sides,  and  the  ship  was  a  little  low  hull  under 
a  huge  pyramid  of  canvas.  It  was  pleasant  at 
night,  to  look  up  at  the  towering  white  sails,  still  and 
cold  as  marble,  filled  out  in  every  seam  by  the  steady 
following  breeze,  and  watch  how  gently  she  rolled  on 
her  way. 

Now  our  work  had  begun.  All  day  it  was  scrub 
and  paint,  scrape  and  hammer,  tar  and  grease  down, 
turn  in  rigging  and  set  it  up,  and  do  all  kinds  of 


148       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

work  that  a  seaman  has  in  hand  when  the  vessel 
enters  the  Trades.  The  Captain  fed  us  well,  and 
worked  iis  well ;  the  men  and  mates  working  in  har- 
mony together.  The  Captain  and  his  family  were 
always  on  deck.  The  cockatoos  made  the  air  ring 
with  sharp  cries,  and  the  goats  and  dogs  chased  each 
other  about  the  deck.  The  Captain  laid  his  specta- 
cle case  down,  and  the  goat  chewed  it  to  pieces.  At 
another  time  he  laid  a  ball  of  twine  on  the  deck,  and 
as  soon  as  his  needleful  was  gone,  the  Captain  looked 
for  the  ball,  and  saw  a  small  portion  of  it  hanging 
from  the  goat's  jaw.  He  took  the  end  and  pulled 
out  the  twine,  fathom  after  fathom,  until  he  had  it  all 
safe  in  his  hands  again.  All  the  pigs  but  one  had 
fallen  by  the  cook's  relentless  hand,  and  that,  a  lit- 
tle black  one,  having  broken  out  from  his  pen,  one 
Sunday,  made  live  fun  for  all  hands.  The  barehead- 
ed Chinaman  was  hard  at  work  chasing  and  trying 
to  corner  him ;  but  the  pig  rushed  to  the  starboard 
forecastle  door,  and  tumbled  through  it  on  to  a 
Dutchman  who  sat  reading  his  prayer-book  at  the 
bottom  of  the  steps.  The  angry  Dutchman  threw 
him  on  deck,  and  his  next  move  was  to  rush  down 
the  ventilator,  and  fall  heavily  enough  on  the 
stomachs  of  two  men  who  were  lying  in  the  upper 
berth,  in  order  to  get  the  pure  air.  Witl\  curses 
loud  and  deep,  the  pig  was  again  thrust  on  deck,  and 
the  steward  put  an  end  to  his  breaking  out  forever, 
by  sticking  the  animal  and  letting  his  life  blood  run 
out  of  the  scupper  hole.  This  was  the  last  of  our 
few  pigs,  and  as  we'^icked  his  rib  bones,  we  wished 
there  were  more  on  board  just  like  him. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.       149 

Having  no  more  pork  to  eat,  we  kept  a  sharp  lookout 
for  porpoises,  and  at  length  had  our  patience  re- 
warded by  capturing  two  large  fish ;  these  were  cut  into 
strips,  and  when  well  seasoned  by  hanging  and  drying, 
were  made  into  balls  and  fried.  The  very  next  day 
after  we  had  captured  the  porpoises,  as  I  mounted 
the  rail  and  naturally  cast  my  eyes  to  the  water,  I 
saw  a  monster  of  a  shark  keeping  up  with  the  rapid 
pace  of  our  ship,  and  with  his  cold  eyes  turned  up  to 
the  clipper.  I  hastily  jumped  from  the  rail  to  the  deck, 
forgetting  the  job  that  I  had  to  do  aloft,  and  soon  had 
the  shark-hook  and  chain  well  baited  with  porpoise. 
The  Captain  came  running  to  me  with  a  new  line  in 
his  hand.  "  Here,  Ned,  bend  this  on  ;  he  is  a  lunker, 
and  will  give  us  a  hard  try."  I  delivered  the  cleared 
line  and  hook  to  the  Captain,  and  as  soon  as  the  bait 
was  near  the  water,  the  hungry  monster  rolled  on  his 
side  and  swallowed  hook  and  bait.  "  Lay  all  hands 
along  here  ;  here  is  some  fun  for  you.  Take  him  for- 
ward of  the  fore  rigging  and  rouse  him  up  if  you  can." 
Easier  said  than  done.  The  monster  lashed  the  clear 
water  into  foam.  His  agony  was  fearful  to  behold. 
He  turned,  twisted  and  splashed  the  water  about, 
until,  at  the  end  of  half  an  hour,  by  the  exertions  of 
all  hands,  the  long  gray  fellow  was  brought  struggling 
to  the  fo'castle,  and  set  upon  by  the  crew  with  axes, 
hand-spikes,  and  bars.  The  shark  with  his  double 
rows  of  teeth  bit  the  iron  work  on  the  fo'castle  deck 
as  if  it  were  lead,  and  the  slaps  of  his  tail,  on  the  deck 
were  heard  to  echo  far  and  near.  But  after  a  while 
his  majesty  gave  up  the  contest,  and  upon  measuring 


150       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

him  we  foiind  his  length  to  be  seventeen  feet.  The 
men  felt  happy  over  his  execution,  for  the  shark  is  the 
sailor's  inveterate  enemy. 

Still  the  sliip  glided  on,  steered  as  true  as  a  boat 
was  ^ver  guided ;  the  ship  work  was  completed,  and 
"  everything,"  the  mate  declared,  "  looked  like  a 
fiddle."  We  slept  on  deck  at  night,  rolled  up  in 
mats,  and  talked  about  the  pleasures  of  home.  By 
day  the  men  made  models,  pricked  India  ink,  and 
prepared  their  cold  weather  garments.  We  were 
near  the  equator,  between  the  two  continents,  thou- 
sands of  miles  from  land,  when  we  discovered  a  leak. 
Our  ship  was  deep  loaded,  and  must  have  been 
wrenched  in  the  hurricane.  The  water  poured  in 
at  the  rate  of  eighteen  hundred  strokes  an  hour  but 
by  the  constant  use  of  our  good  pumps  we  kept  the 
water  down.  It  was  pump  all  the  time,  night  and 
day.  The  water  soon  began  to  lessen,  and  in  two 
week's  time  one  man  could  pump  her  out  in  an  hour. 
Still  the  pump  was  kept  jogging  easy  most  of  tlie 
time,  and  the  ship  drove  on,  cleaving  her  way  to  the 
Northern  clime. 

Our  cook,  a  Creole  from  New  Orleans,  was  taken 
sick  with  the  dysentery  and  pined  away  each  d^y, 
until  at  last  he  was  a  pitiful  object  to  look  on,  being 
reduced  to  skin  and  bones.  The  Captain  dosed  him 
with  many  kinds  of  drugs,  and  one  day  he  called  out 
to  the  men,  —  "Come  here,  and  take  this  body  for 
burial."  The  warm  body  was  dragged  from  its  berth, 
the  eyes  open,  and  looking  life-like  to  us.  It  was  placed 
on  the   deck,  rolled   unceremoniously  in  a  blanket, 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       151 

and  placed  on  a  plank,  tilted  on  the  rail.  The  men 
held  the  inboard  end  of  the  plank,  and  we  waited  to  hear 
the  funeral  services  read  ;  but  the  mates  kept  aft,  and 
only  two  or  three  men  were  present.  The  Captain 
raised  his  hand ;  "  over  with  him,  boys,''  came  from 
his  hard  heart  and  lips,  and  away  he  went,  whistling, 
and  playing  with  his  dog.  The  men  held  the  plank 
and  fervently  said,  "  Good  bye.  Cookie ;"  and,  "  God 
have  mercy  on  your  soul ;  may  you  rest  in  peace,"  fell 
from  my  lips.  Then  the  plank  was  tilted,  the  corpse 
slid  into  the  clear,  blue  ocean,  and  remained  half  out 
of  water,  for  the  dry  blanket  buoyed  it  up.  "  My 
God,  can  it  be  possible  that  the  corpse  is  following 
us  ?  "  said  the  second  mate.  The  Captain,  white  as 
a  sheet,  took  one  look  at  the  sunken  face  turned  to- 
ward us,  and  bobbing  up  and  down  in  our  wake,  and 
from  that  moment  was  a  raving,  tearing  man,  al- 
ways nervous  and  half  crazy.  The  mate  began  to 
dislike  him,  and  the  men  treated  him  with  contempt. 
Angry  threats  grew  to  be  plenty;  this  bad  sph'it 
manifesting  itself  in  the  crew,  hard  words  soon  came 
to  hard  blows,  fore  and  aft.  The  men  at  the  pump 
had  a  fight ;  the  Kanakas  drew  knives  ;  the  Irishmen 
took  the  pump  brakes,  and  laid  the  murderous-mind- 
ed natives  out  on  the  deck ;  the  second  mate  refused 
duty,  and  a  Dutchman  was  put  in  his  place. 

We  had  left  the  "  trades, "  and  were  having  calms 
with  light  baffling  winds  and  sizzling  hot  weather. 
Thus  we  were  for  two  weeks,  the  sails  hanging  flat 
up  and  down  the  spars,  or  slatting  and  fraying  when 
the    gentle   swell    struck    the  ship.     The   Captain 


152       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailo/s  Life, 

whistled  and  cursed  himself  sore,  for  a  fair  wind, 
and  every  kind  of  work  that  could  be  thought  of  was 
ordered  to  be  done.  Even  the  great  iron  cables  were 
roused  on  deck,  pounded,  coal-tarred,  and  stowed 
away.  At  length  the  squally,  shifting  wind  began  to 
blow ;  the  nights  were  darker  than  a  miser's  pocket ; 
gusts  of  wind  and  torrents  of  water  swept  the  ship 
day  after  day,  and  a  tropical  hurricane  drove  us  out 
of  our  course,  and  gave  our  men  plenty  to  do.  Every- 
thing above  the  cross-trees  was  sent  down.  Our  rig- 
ging was  snapped,  and  had  to  be  turned  in  again. 
The  lee  rail  was  under  water  naany  times,  and  the 
poultry,  men's  chests,  and  men  themselves  were 
washed  from  one  side  to  the  other.  A  howling  south- 
easter came  upon  us,  and  when  it  moderated,  our 
ship  was  under  lower  topsails  to  the  eastward  of  the 
island  of  Bermuda. 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life,       153 


CHAPTER    XYI. 

Approaching  Cape  Hatteras  —  "  Steer  Small,  my  Hearties  "  —  Sai- 
lor's Rights  and  Sailor's  Wrongs  —  Spearing  Rats  —  A  Howling 
Gale  —  Fierce  Combat  with  the  Storm  —  Good  bye,  Hatteras  — 
Beating  up  the  Coast — New  York  Pilots  —  Tug  Boats  at  Hand 

—  Familiar  Scenes  —  We  are  visited  by  Runners  and  False  Friends 

—  Jack  Tar  and  the  Land  Sharks  —  In  New  York  Harbor  —  "  Let 
go  the  Anchor"  —  A  Narrow  Escape  —  My  Native  Land  Once 
More  —  By  Rail  to  Boston  —  The  Long  Voyage  Over  —  Home 
Again. 

''^'^ 

HE  island  of  Bermuda  bore  West  by  South 
twenty  miles,  when  the  gale  abated,  and 
***^  P  the  wind  came  out  steadily  from  the  east- 
ward. We  were  now  five  hundred  and  forty  miles 
east  of  the  State  of  Carolina,  and  knew  if  the  wind 
held  good  four  days,  we  should  be  in  tlie  power  of 
the  gulf  stream,  and  off  Cape  Hatteras,  that  place 
so  much  dreaded  by  seamen.  I  have  been  around 
Hatteras  eleven  times,  and  only  twice  have  seen 
pleasant  weather.  Our  ship  spoke,  off  Bermuda,  a 
Portuguese  brig,  with  a  very  large  crew,  bound  to 
Rio  Janerio,  and  kept  company  three  days  with  a 
Boston  schooner,  that  could  sail  two  miles  to  our 
one  ;  we  also  met  two  English  barques  that  were 
bound  to  New  York.  Every  vessel  except  the 
schooner  was  under  a  cloud  of  canvas  ;  but  that 
sharp,  long,  heavy-sparred  fore-and-after  jogged  along 
under  easy  sail  just  ahead  of  us.     The  barques  were 


154       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

soon  but  little  white  specks  astern,  and  "  steer  small, 
my  hearties,  don't  lose  an  inch,"  was  sounded  in  our 
ears.  As  we  turned  the  iron  wheel,  from  daylight 
to  dark,  the  schooner,  tired  of  tlHs  play,  and  feeling 
sure  she  was  on  the  right  path,  dipped  her  colors, 
hoisted  the  huge  gaff-topsails  and  outer  jibs,  and 
walked  away  from  us  like  a  dolphin  from  a  shark, 
so  that  at  set  of  sun  we  were  alone  on  the  sea, 
ploughing  our  way  straight  for  the  land  of  freedom. 
The  cook's  burial  was  often  talked  of  by  the  men, 
and  our  disabled  second  mate.  "  I  have  never  seen 
a  dog  thrown  overboard  in  that  way,"  he  would  ex- 
claim, and  then  run  on,  "I  '11  be  flabbergasted  if  I 
could  do  as  bad  as  that  if  I  was  the  old  devil  him- 
self." 

"  I  've  seen  bully  Waterman  sit  on  his  cabin-house 
and  shoot  men  from  the  yards,"  said  Mat  Conolly. 

"  And  I  've  seen  men  jumping  overboard  in  New 
York  harbor,  and  the  decks  flowing  with  blood,"  said 
Brown  ;  "  blast  me  if  I  don't  hope  there  will  be  a 
law  that  will  make  shippers  smart,  some  day.  The 
idea  of  a  man  coming  aboard,  and  calling  the  men 
all  aft,  and  saying,  '  I  'm  the  captain,  God  Almighty, 
and  this  is  my  mate,  Jesus  Christ ;  now  look  alive, 
you  devils,  or  you  will  wish  yourselves  in  hell  before 
the  trip  is  up ; '   all  this  in  New  York  and  'Frisco." 

These  statements,  roughly  made  and  interspersed 
with  oaths  that  exhibited  their  depth  of  feeling,  was 
true.  How  many  unknown  bodies  are  taken  from 
the  docks  and  find  a  place  in  the  dead-hovise,  no  one 
can  tell.     They  are  mostly  the  bodies  of  mates  and 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof's  Life,       155 

seamen  who  are  never  missed  or  recognized.  The 
old  maxim  on  shipboard  in  mid  ocean  is  kept  before 
the  seamen's  eyes,  "  Don't  do  as  I  do,  but  do  just  as  I 
tell  you."  The  sail^s  have  well  realized  the  fact  by 
this  time,  that  "  There  are  men,  who,  clothed  in  brief 
authority,  would  make  hell  yawn  and  tyrants  trem- 
ble." But  those  old  times  of  barbarity  are  fast  pass- 
ing away.  Whipping,  beating,  shooting,  and  starv- 
ing the  men  are,  to  use  a  common  expression,  about 
played  out.  A  good  captain  is  loved  and  followed  to 
the  death  with  a  friendship  as  firm  as  adamant,  but 
a  brute  of  a  man  has  a  revolver  ball  put  through  his 
head,  and  the  avenger  escapes  the  penalty  of  the 
law.  Men  that  sail  in  "  hard  boats "  take  precau- 
tionary measures  to  maintain  their  rights,  and  this 
step  has  been  taken  by  them  none  too  soon.  The 
law  of  the  land  is  beginning  to  throw  its  protect- 
ing arms  around  the  seamen,  and  every  one  is 
learning  the  fact  that  curses  and  kicks  will  never 
make  the  sailor  a  better  man ;  but  that  good  food 
and  kind  treatment  will  do  it  all. 

We  ran  by  the  floating  fields  of  gulf  weed ;  the 
flying-fish  and  dolphins  had  left  us,  and  the  cool, 
pure  air  of  America  fanned  our  sun-tanned  faces. 
Still  we  ploughed  on  through  the  curling  sea,  for  the 
girls  at  home  had  hold  of  the  tow-rope,  and  our  craft 
was  sweeping  along  by  day  and  night,  straight  for 
abiding  places  of  those  we  loved. 

Our  forecastle  swarmed  with  rats,  and  many  a 
watch  below  I  spent  lying  in  my  bunk  and  spearing 
them  with  a  sail-needle  fastened   to  a  long   rattan. 


156       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

This  sport  of  mine,  continued  day  after  day,  had  the 
effect  of  somewhat  lessening  the  number  of  pas- 
sengers ;  in  fact,  the  rats  began  to  be  scarce,  and 
finally  quit  running  over  us  when  we  were  asleep. 

One  day  the  captain  called  me  into  his  cabin,  and 
when  we  were  alone,  questioned  me  on  many  subjects, 
and  wound  up  by  saying,  "  Well,  I  am  without  a  boy, 
and  as  you  are  but  seventeen  years  old  now,  you  may 
rise  in  the  profession." 

"  But,"  he  continued,  fixing  his  hard,  gray  eyes  on 
me,  "  I  like  you,  and  if  you  were  my  boy,  I  'd  make 
you  in  two  years  a  mate  of  a  clipper  ship,  or  hang 
you  dead." 

I  told  him  I  was  much  obliged  to  him  for  his  kind 
offers,  but  had  no  idea  of  changing  my  own  parents' 
love  for  that  of  another,  and  preferred  to  battle  my 
way  up  the  ladder  alone.  At  this  he  put  his  hand 
over  his  eyes,  and  then  waved  it  to  the  door,  and  I 
returned  to  my  duty  again.  He  had  shown  favor  to 
my  chum  during  the  passage,  and  had  been  kind  to 
me  the  whole  time,  for  I  was  always  on  hand  for  any- 
thing ;  the  quickest  to  stow  the  royals,  and  do  any 
work  where  a  heavy  man  could  not  go  ;  but  I  was 
quite  overcome  by  this  last  interview.  Was  it  be- 
cause I  was  cleaner  and  more  civil  than  the  others, 
or  had  I  a  fair  face  and  nimble  body  that  took  his 
eye  ?  I  never  knew  to  what  I  was  indebted  for  his 
favorable  attention. 

On  went  the  ship  with  a  fair  wind  most  of  the  time, 
and  making  about  eight  miles  an  hour  on  an  aver- 
age.    At  the  end  of  the  eighty-sixth  day  from  Bom- 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       157 

bay,  a  fearful  storm  came  rushing  down  upon  us 
from  the  westward.  Dark  masses  of  high,  towering 
clouds  ran  across  the  sky ;  the  breeze  began  to  pipe 
and  ripen  to  a  gale  ;  the  ship  was  stripped  for  a  bat- 
tle with  the  elements,  and  under  lower  topsails  and 
main-spencer,  plunged  into  the  yawning  black  sea. 
All  that  night  it  roared  and  howled,  and  at  daylight 
it  had  a  fresh  hand  at  the  bellows.  The  cold  wind 
and  rain  chilled  us  through.  Pea-jackets  and  oil 
suits  were  called  into  play.  The  ship  thrust  her 
sharp  bows  into  the  angry  sea,  and  reared  her  fore- 
foot out  of  water.  Life  lines  were  run  fore-and-aft 
the  deck,  and  everything  was  well  lashed  to  ring- 
bolts and  bitts.  The  topsails  were  blown  to  fine 
rags,  and  whirled  away  on  the  wings  of  the  wind. 
At  last  the  vessel  was  hove  to,  and  was  better  able 
to  ride  out  the  gale.  The  Captain's  family,  shel- 
tered in  the  warm  deck-house,  gazed  from  the  win- 
dows at  the  raging  sea  and  water-soaked  men  cling- 
ing to  the  weather-rail  and  rigging.  The  white-cap- 
ped waves  tumbled  over  our  bow,  but  the  ship 
quickly  rose  and  shook  them  oiF. 

"  When  you  see  this  craft  scud,"  cried  the  Captain, 
"  it  will  be  before  a  wind  that  can  blow  the  liorns 
from  the  devil's  head." 

The  men  chewed  their  hard  bread  and  shook  their 
dripping  forms  in  silence.  The  officers  clung  to  the 
weather-mizzen  rigging,  issuing  their  orders  through 
the  red  speaking-trumpet. 

"  Look  out  there,  a  sea  is  coming !  hold  on  every- 
body!" 


158       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

Tons  of  water  struck  the  ship.  It  reeled  and 
trembled  with  the  shock,  and  arose  to  meet  another 
big,  towering  wave.  No  fire  could  be  made,  or  warm 
drink  served  out  to  the  men,  and  all  on  deck,  wet 
and  chilled,  felt  dispirited.  The  howling  gale  lasted 
three  days  and  nights,  and  then  it  calmed  away, 
leaving  a  tumbled  sea  that  tossed  us  about  at  its 
mercy. 

A  fresh  breeze  soon  fanned  our  cheeks.  New  and 
strong  sails  replaced  those  that  had  been  blown  away, 
and  once  more  we  were  on  our  course  for  Sandy 
Hook.  The  wet  and  weary  men  went  to  their  berths 
in  the  fo'castle,  there  to  find  everything  wet,  broken, 
and  topsy-turvy.  Dry  goods  were  all  in  a  heap ;  pipes 
broken,  tobacco  and  matches  wet  through.  The  port- 
watch  had  the  deck,  and  the  cook  was  in  his  galley 
trying  to  start  a  fire,  with  which  to  dry  the  gar- 
ments, and  make  ready  a  pot  of  strong  coffee  for  all 
hands.  The  sun  shone  brightly  on  the  heaving  sea, 
and  the  ship  crept  slowly  towards  the  land.  We 
gladly  bade  good  bye  to  Hatteras,  after  a  touch  of 
its  quality,  which  it  so  delights  to  exhibit  to  home- 
ward-bounders, knowing  that  they  will  appreciate 
calm  weather  when  they  get  it  again. 

Two  days  after  this  we  had  a  lovely,  fair  wind,  and 
reeled  off  the  knots  at  a  rapid  rate.  All  eyes  were 
strained  for  a  sight  of  a  pilot  boat  dancing  out,  and 
at  midnight  a  bright  light  was  seen  nearing  us.  It 
was  on  board  of  boat  "No.  2,"  and  the  little  craft 
soon  spoke  us. 

"  Ship  ahoy,  where  you  bound  ? " 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       159 

"  New  York." 

"  Do  you  want  a  pilot  ?" 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir." 

Gracefully  the  schooner  dashed  up  to  the  ship's 
wake,  and  the  little  boat,  well  manned,  pulled  for  us. 
The  pilot  was  put  aboard,  and  the  boat  scudded 
back  to  its  place  on  the  deck  of  the  sharp-featured 
pilot  vessel.  The  pilot  immediately  took  charge  of 
the  ship,  and  every  sail  was  set  that  would  draw. 

Day  dawned  upon  us,  and  we  were  fast  running  by 
the  Jersey  shore.  An  ocean  steamer  passed,  splash- 
ing the  blue  water  into  foam  with  her  broad  paddle- 
wheels.  Outward  bound  ships,  barques,  and  brigs, 
were  beating  against  the  morning  wind.  The  low 
land  within  sight  was  part  of  our  native  land,  and 
that  thought  filled  us  with  glad  emotions.  The  wind 
died  out  and  came  only  in  faint  puffs,  dead  in  our 
teeth.  Ahead  was  a  large,  black  tug  boat,  bearing 
down  on  us.  She  came  near  and  spoke  our  Cap- 
tain :  — 

"  What  will  you  charge  for  a  tow  up  to  the  city  ?  " 

"  Two  hundred  dollars,"  answered  the  tug. 

"  Won't  do  it ;  I  '11  give  you  one  hundred  and  fifty." 

"  SpUt  the  difference." 

"  Well,  give  us  your  hawser." 

The  ten-inch  hawser  of  the  tug  was  then  made  se- 
cure to  a  light  line  which  flew  circling  in  the  air, 
and  fell  on  our  forecastle  deck.  The  new  stiff  haw- 
ser was  made  fast  and  parcelled,  to  keep  it  from  being 
cut,  and  the  tug-boat  took  a  steady  pull  upon  it  to 
see  that  all  was  right.    The  hawser  was  stretched  as 


IGO       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

straight  as  a  bar,  and  our  ship  moved  through  the  ruf- 
fled water,  with  its  sails  unbent  and  sent  down,  rolled 
up  and  stowed  away,  and  the  long,  heavy  yards 
squared  ;  the  rigging  was  hauled  taut,  and  every  rope 
coiled  on  its  proper  pin.  On  went  the  tug,  dragging 
the  passive  ship  along  in  her  frothy  wake  ;  our  en- 
sign and  colors  were  flying,  and  the  crew  lounging 
over  the  rail  enjoyed  the  beauty  of  the  day.  The 
highlands  were  soon  at  hand,  and  we  were  cheered 
by  sight  of  the  green  grass  that  clothed  the  hills  and 
shores,  and  the  white  houses  that  peeped  from  groves 
and  valleys,  while  right  ahead  of  us  came  a  large  fleet 
of  colliers  and  market  boats. 

The  crew  employed  their  time  in  speculating  on  the 
rousing  times  they  would  have  as  soon  as  they  got 
ashore.  Sandy  Hook  was  on  our  port-bow,  as  on- 
ward we  leaped.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  could  walk, 
like  Blondin,  on  the  taut  hawser,  that  ran  from  ship 
to  tug.  Everybody  on  board  felt  the  magic  influence 
of  the  shores,  that  lay  bright  and  green  before  us. 
The  men  smoked  and  chatted  ;  the  Captain  and  pilot 
walked  the  deck  in  earnest  conversation,  and  the 
mates  kept  their  eyes  aloft  to  see  that  the  colors 
blew  clear,  and  that  the  spars  and  rigging  were  in  per- 
fect trim.  The  Chinese  steward  anxiously  inquired, 
"  Where  de  New  York  ?  When  we  go  dere  ?  "  and  set- 
tled his  mind  in  the  remark,  "  Me  hab  one  good  time." 

"  Don't  you  get  shanghied  the  first  day,"  put  in 
the  mate. 

"  Yes,  me  go  to  Shanghie,"  answered  the  yellow- 
faced  Chinaman. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       161 

"  Yes,  1  reckon  you  will ;  and  to  'Frisco,  too,  if 
you  don't  keep  those  pig  eyes  of  yours  open." 

"  Ah,  no  fear ;  me  all  right,"  was  the  response, 
and  he  ran  to  look  at  his  pots  that  were  boiling  over 
on  the  stove. 

The  crew  pointed  out  familiar  places,  as  our  rapid 
and  straight  passage  opened  new  views.  Ahead  of 
us  lay  four  boats  on  the  water,  full  of  birds  of  prey, 
in  the  shape  of  runners  for  the  sailors'  boarding 
houses.  Ah,  Jack  Tar,  you  don't  know  how  many 
hands  are  waiting  to  grasp  your  tar-stained,  hardened 
flipper  that  now  rests  on  the  rail ;  that  hand  will  be 
clasped  by  every  one  that  can  make  a  dollar  from  your 
generous  nature.  There  are  plenty  of  smiling  faces 
to  greet  you,  and  fair,  thieving  hands  to  pluck  the 
last  shiner  from  your  pocket,  and  then  bid  you  seek 
another  ship. 

The  health  officer  inspected  us,  and  as  he  examined 
the  crew,  nodded  to  the  Captain,  signifying  that  he 
had  approved  a  bill  of  health,  and  on  we  passed.  The 
runners  made  fast  to  us  and  jumped  aboard. 

"  How  are  you,  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry?  Glad  to 
see  you." 

The  crew  led  the  runners  down  the  forecastle  steps, 
and  rum-bottles  were  produced  *and  went  the  round 
of  every  mouth.  Each  runner  took  two  sailors  iin- 
der  his  charge,  and  the  men's  hands  were  filled  with 
the  runnei's'  cards.  Fine  cigars  and  plugs  of  tobacco 
were  offered  and  taken,  and  the  liquor  beginning  to 
work  on  the  men,  they  talked  on  every  subject,  and 
told  all  they  knew. 


162       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

"  Say,  bully,  who  keeps  the  Home  now  ?  Has  Bill 
got  out  of  chockey  yet  ? " 

"  What  are  the  going  wages  ;  and  how 're  times  ?  '* 

**Is  Little  Mary  in  the  same  place,  and  what's  the 
play  at  the  Bowery  ?" 

Another  inquired,  "  Where  can  I  have  the  most 
fun  in  the  shortest  space  of  time,  and  how  much  can 
I  get  rigged  out  for  ?  " 

Questions  were  rapidly  asked  and  as  rapidly  answer- 
ed; and,  as  I  expected,  one  of  the  runners  came  to 
me.  "  Hallo,  Charley  ;  blowed  if  I  saw  you  before. 
Don't  know  me  ?  the  devil  you  don't ;  you  and  I 
have  jogged  along  Broadway  night  after  night. 
Want  some  money,  cigars  or  rum  ?  anything  you 
want,  here  I  am." 

"  No  sir,"  said  I,  "  I  don't  want  you,  your  cards, 
or  your  gifts  ;  I  am  capable  of  taking  care  of  myself, 
in  the  presence  of  sea  or  shore  pirates." 

I  expected  that  he  would  have  dashed  my  teeth 
down  my  throat,  for  my  bold  answer,  but  he  only 
said,  with  the  glaring  eyes  of  a  tiger,  "  My  bold  pup, 
we  '11  have  you  yet." 

"  Sail  in,"  I  replied,  "I  can  travel  on  the  angle  of 
a  diamond  as  fast  as  you  can."      •^ 

"  All  right,"  said  he,  as  he  joined  his  companions. 

The  mate  came  to  me  and  said,"  Stick  to  the  ship, 
and  give  those  hounds  the  cold  shoulder."  I  was 
sorry  to  see  my  chum  in  their  hands,  but  at  length 
I  took  care  of  him,  and  made  the  runners  wild  with 
rage  in  doing  so. 

On  we  went,  through  the  Narrows  and  past  Staten 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.       163 

Island.  The  granite  forts  and  black,  muzzled  cannon 
were  on  either  hand  ;  the  glorious  stars  and  stripes 
waved  from  every  flag-staff  and  mast,  and  the  proud 
and  noble  city  of  New  York  was  before  us,  with  its 
forests  of  masts,  church  spires,  and  towers,  its  noise 
and  bustle. 

The  captain  of  the  tow-boat  cried  out?,  "  cast  off 
that  hawser,"  and  the  runners  jumped  to  do  it ;  Why 
should  Jack  Tar  work,  while  such  good  friends  were 
aboard  ?  The  hawser  sparkled  in  the  water,  as  it  was 
hauled  aboard  the  boat.  The  headway  of  our  ship 
was  lessening  every  moment,  and  soon  the  great  chain 
was  rendered  over  the  windlass  and  ready  to  run. 

"  Let  go  the  anchor,"  shouted  the  pilot.  "  All 
gone  sir,"  responded  the  mate,  as  the  best  bower  left 
its  shoe. 

The  chain  rumbled  and  surged  on  the  windlass, 
as  the  ship  swung  head  to  the  tide.  We  were  at 
our  journey's  end ;  ninety-two  days  of  sailing  and 
toiling  were  over,  and  the  ship  was  safe  in  port,  at 
last.  The  runners  sprang  into  their  boats  and  left 
the  ship,  saying  to  the  two  men  that  still  remained, 
"Bring  those  two  youngsters,  anyhow." 

*'  You  '11  bet  I  will,  drunk  or  alive,"  answered  the 
runner  that  I  had  rejected. 

"  Well,  see  that  you  do,  you  will  have  a  gay  time 
doing  it." 

Supper,  of  cold  beef,  tea,  and  hard  bread,  was  ready. 
One  of  our  own  crew,  an  Englishman,  who  was  a 
bully  in  the  forecastle  and  a  coward  in  danger,  kept 
the  beef  kid  to  himself,  and  when  I  asked  him  to 


164       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^s  Life. 

pass  it  round  to  the  men,  he  cursed  me  up  hill  and 
down  dale. 

"  Oh,  you  are  drunk,''  said  the  runner.  "  Give  the 
beef  to  him."  "  I  '11  not  do  that  till  I  get  ready," 
blurted  out  the  bully,  as  he  clasped  the  kid. 

"  You  won't  ?  "  I  cried.  "  Pass  that  beef  to  me." 
The  man  jumped  at  me,  and  lunged  his  sharp  knife, 
with  a  murderous  stroke,  full  at  my  eyes.  I  dodged 
the  keen  blade,  his  heavy  hand  grazed  my  ear,  and 
with  the  thought  that  self-preservation  is  the  first  law 
of  nature,  I  tripped  him  up  and  gave  him  that  which 
satisfied  him  that  I  was  his  master. 

The  men  shouted,  "  Bully  for  you,  Ned  ;  give  him 
room  according  to  his  strength ;"  and  the  humbled 
man  crawled  up  the  ladder  minus  his  teeth,  swear- 
ing vengeance,  which  never  came. 

"Don't  you  think  you  will  go  to  my  house  ?  "  asked 
the  runner,  addressing  me.  "No,"  said  I,  "I  shall 
keep  ship,  if  the  officers  are  willing,  and  go  to  the 
Home  when  I  get  ashore." 

Our  supper  disposed  of,  I  ascended  the  forecastle 
steps  and  walked  the  deck,  gazing  on  the  gorgeous 
sunset,  and  laying  out  plans  for  the  future.  Only 
the  anchor  watch  was  on  deck,  and  the  small  lantern 
in  the  rigging  was  fast  going  to  sleep.  At  midnight  I 
was  relieved  of  my  lookout,  and,  tired  of  watching 
the  thousands  of  lights  ashore,  I  coiled  myself  up  on 
the  old  canvas  for  rest.  The  men  below  were  dream- 
ing of  jolly  times,  dashing  girls,  full  tumblers  and 
plenty  of  tobacco.  I  turned  my  thoughts  to  the 
dear  ones  at  home,  anxious  for  the  welfare  of  their 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailo^^s  Life.       165 

absent,  roving  boy,  and  felt  grateful  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  my  life,  health,  and  strength. 

Sleep  and  reveries  were  rudely  broken  by  the  mate 
who  shook  my  shoulder,  saying,  "  Come,  my  lad,  get 
your  peepers  open,  and  hurry  the  buckets  and  brooms 
along,"  and  then,  handspike  in  hand,  he  went  to  the 
forecastle  door.  His  deep  voice  rang  out  on  the  clear 
morning  air,  "  Come  out  of  that,  you  sleepy  swabs, 
and  wash  her  off."  The  men  with  half-closed  eyes,  and 
slow  steps,  crawled  out  from  the  fo'castle,  the  mate 
counting  aloud  each  man  as  he  appeared.  "  Come, 
show  yourselves  up  here  in  double  quick  time,  or 
I  shall  fetch  you  out ;  don't  think  you  're  ashore 
yet.  Come,  heave  water  there,  my  bulls,  and  don't 
have  any  black  looks." 

The  work  was  soon  done,  and  the  deck  swabbed  dry. 
The  runners  busied  themselves  in  lashing  up  the 
men's  bedding,  and  all  hands  slipped  on  their  best 
clothes,  and  hailed  the  tug  boat  with  joy.  The  an- 
chor came  to  the  bow  with  the  chanty  of  "Oh,  Riley, 
Oh,"  and  "  Carry  me  Long,"  and  the  tug  walked  us 
toward  the  wharf  at  Brooklyn.  Our  breakfast  was 
rapidly  dispatched,  and  I  found  myself  obliged  to 
keep  a  sharp  eye  on  my  little  property.  The  ship 
entered  the  dock;  the  side  of  our  floating  home 
rubbed  the  capsill  of  the  wharf;  fenders  were  put 
over,  warps  run  out,  and  the  runners'  teams  were 
close  at  hand,  and  took  the  men's  luggage  away  in 
quick  time.  Most  of  our  men  followed  their  luggage, 
taking  French  leave  of  the  ship.  Thieves  from  the 
dock  swarmed  into  the  forecastle.    They  stole  my 


168       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

door,  and  familiar  faces  appeared  at  the  window.  Yes, 
all  were  there  ;  thank  God,  just  as  I  left  them,  hun- 
dreds of  days  before.  I  bade  my  chum  good  bye,  as 
he  went  further  down  the  road ;  and  T  pulled  my  chest 
to  tliQ  side  of  the  road.  Loving  arms  encircled  me, 
and  friendly  hands  clasped  my  own.  It  was  a  little 
heaven  below,  and  every  one  was  overjoyed  to  see 
me  once  mote  safe  at  home. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       169 


CHAPTER   XYII. 

War  is  Declared  —  I  Join  the  Navy  —  Scenes  on  Board  the  "  Guardo" 

—  Hard  Characters  —  The  "  Gemsbok"  and  her  Crew  —  Taking 
in  Powder —  The  "  Congress  "  —  Outward  Bound —  Holy-Stones 
and  "Prayer  Books" — Fortress  Monroe — The  Rip-Raps  — 
Scenes  in  the  Bay  —  Prizes  —  Sailor's  Duty — The  Mail  Bag  — 
Hurrying  up  the  Letters  —  Our  Mess  Cook  —  What's  Up  Now? 

—  Departure  from  Hampton  Roads. 


Y  name  and  adventures  had  travelled  faster 
than  I  had  anticipated ;  the  local  papers  had 
taken  up  my  brief  history,  and  an  account 
of  the  wreck  had  been  freely  circulated.  I  was 
pleased  at  this,  for  it  awakened  a  sympathy  for  the 
crew,  and  for  sea-faring  men  in  every  part  of  the 
world.  The  Captain's  letter  was  printed  in  the  daily 
papers  and  sent  to  the  friends  and  acquaintances  of 
those  who  were  on  board  the  ill-fated  vessel.  He 
did  not  hesitate,  notwithstanding  his  recent  experi- 
ence, to  take  a  new  clipper  barque,  fresh  from  the 
builder's  hands,  and  start  on  another  voyage  to  the 
same  dreaded  coast,  accompanied  by  his  young  wife. 
It  was  his  last  voyage  in  this  world,  for  the  hand  of 
death  laid  him  and  his  wife  in  that  foreign  land.  The 
mate,  a  young  man,  took  command,  and  still  sails  to 
the  east  coast  of  Africa.  I  hauled  off  from  all  dan- 
ger in  that  direction,  and  was  at  home,  living  in  com- 
parative ease,  waiting  for  something  to  turn  up,  when 
our  country  was  startled  from  a  long  repose  in  peace- 


168       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

door,  and  familiar  faces  appeared  at  the  window.  Yes, 
all  were  there  ;  thank  God,  just  as  I  left  them,  hun- 
dreds of  days  before.  I  bade  my  chum  good  bye,  as 
he  went  further  down  the  road ;  and  I  pulled  my  chest 
to  the  side  of  the  road.  Loving  arms  encircled  me, 
and  friendly  hands  clasped  my  own.  It  was  a  little 
heaven  below,  and  every  one  was  overjoyed  to  see 
me  once  mot'e  safe  at  home. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       169 


CHAPTER   XYII. 

War  is  Declared  —  I  Join  the  Navy  —  Scenes  on  Board  the  "  Guardo" 

—  Hard  Characters  —  The  "  Gemsbok"  and  her  Crew  —  Taking 
in  Powder —  The  "  Congress  "  —  Outward  Bound  —  Holy-Stones 
and  "Prayer  Books"  —  Fortress  Monroe — The  Rip-Raps  — 
Scenes  in  the  Bay  —  Prizes  —  Sailor's  Duty — The  Mail  Bag  — 
Hurrying  up  the  Letters  —  Our  Mess  Cook  —  What's  Up  Now? 

—  Departure  from  Hampton  Roads. 


Y  name  and  adventures  had  travelled  faster 
than  I  had  anticipated ;  the  local  papers  had 
taken  up  my  brief  history,  and  an  account 
of  the  wreck  had  been  freely  circulated.  I  was 
pleased  at  this,  for  it  awakened  a  sympathy  for  the 
crew,  and  for  sea-faring  men  in  every  part  of  the 
world.  The  Captain's  letter  was  printed  in  the  daily 
papers  and  sent  to  the  friends  and  acquaintances  of 
those  who  were  on  board  the  ill-fated  vessel.  He 
did  not  hesitate,  notwithstanding  his  recent  experi- 
ence, to  take  a  new  clipper  barque,  fresh  from  the 
builder's  hands,  and  start  on  another  voyage  to  the 
same  dreaded  coast,  accompanied  by  his  young  wife. 
It  was  his  last  voyage  in  this  world,  for  the  hand  of 
death  laid  him  and  his  wife  in  that  foreign  land.  The 
mate,  a  young  man,  took  command,  and  still  sails  to 
the  east  coast  of  Africa.  I  hauled  off  from  all  dan- 
ger in  that  direction,  and  was  at  home,  living  in  com- 
parative ease,  waiting  for  something  to  turn  up,  when 
our  country  was  startled  from  a  long  repose  in  peace- 


170       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

ful  pursuits,  by  the  boom  of  Sumter's  guns,  the  echo 
of  which  made  tlie  loyal  millions  wake  to  the  call  of 
"  to  arms."  Without  any  hesitation,  I  sought  out  a 
number  of  active  young  seamen,  and  we  all  shipped 
in  the  navy,  at  the  North  Square  rendezvous,  Boston. 
The  promptness  with  which  we  answered  all  the  ques- 
tions, much  pleased  the  examining  officer,  and  the 
doctor  soon  had  us  stripped,  and  after  going  through 
a  variety  of  exercises  to  show  off  our  strength  and 
suppleness,  we  were  passed,  and  directed  to  the  out- 
fitter, by  whom  we  were  soon  arrayed  in  the  suit  of 
dark  blue. 

Don't  take  too  many  articles  ;  you  have  to  pay 
for  every  piece  out  of  your  fourteen  dollars  a  month. 
Ah !  many  a  young  heart  that  was  thumping  under 
the  gay  suits  of  blue  that  day,  was  soon  stilled  for- 
ever, while  others,  like  myself,  guarded  by  the  same 
Providence,  survived,  and  left  the  service  in  as  good 
condition  as  they  entered. 

The  wagon  wa^  at  the  door ;  the  men  tumbled  in 
with  their  luggage,  and  away  we  went  through  the 
winding,  crowded  streets,  and  into  the  Navy  Yard  at 
Charlestown,  where  wc  found  a  huge  hulk  moored 
fast  near  the  docks.  The  port-holes  were  crowded 
with  men  watching  for  friends,  and  endeavoring  to 
inhale  a  bit  of  pure  air,  and  feel  the  sunshine.  There 
were  sixteen  hundred  men  confined  between  those 
wooden  walls,  and  as  hard  a  set  as  one  would  care  to 
be  among. 

We  stepped  into  the  floating  ark  with  our  luggage, 
and  beheld  a  sea  of  faces,  and  forms  clad  in  navy 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       171 

blue.  Our  traps  were  stowed  away,  and  again  we 
stripped  for  an  examination  by  the  surgeon.  Dozens 
of  half-naked  men  were  waiting  their  turn  to  be  ex- 
amined, and  we  were  glad  when  the  ceremony  was 
over.  We  elbowed  our  way  through  the  crowd,  who 
were  pushing,  swearing,  jostling,  and  mauling  each 
other,  and  among  whom  the  weak  had  to  go  to  the 
wall.  What  a  collection  of  men  was  there,  —  the 
gambler,  the  thief,  the  clerk,  the  landsmen,  sailors 
and  men  of  all  grades  had  met ;  and  the  low-browed, 
prowling  roughs  were  plenty  in  that  atmosphere  of 
crime  and  vice.  The  odor  of  bilge-water,  cooking, 
tobacco,  and  bad  air,  was  constantly  assailing  our 
nostrils.  No  wonder  the  spar-deck  was  crowded  with 
decent  men,  who  could  not  endure  the  reeking,  putrid 
atmosphere  of  the  berth  and  gun-decks. 

But  we  were  to  get  used  to  all  this,  sooner  or  later, 
for  we  were  on  the  "  Guardo."  One  could  easily  re- 
cognize the  thorough-bred  seaman,  —  he  was  quiet 
and  wary  of  everybody,  while  the  landsman  jumped  at 
every  bait  that  was  held  -out  to  him,  and  was  lost 
in  amazement  at  everything  he  saw  and  heard. 

In  an  effort  to  ascertain  our  number  of  mess  and 
hammock,  we  failed  to  gain  our  purpose.  We  could 
scarcely  find  a  hammock-hook  empty,  and  not  fancy- 
ing the  crowded  lower  deck,  we  ascended  to  the  spar- 
deck. 

The  visitors  now  began  to  arrive  in  large  numbers. 
Fathers  and  mothers,  brothers  and  sisters,  friends 
and  sweethearts  crowded  upon  the  after-deck.  Among 
these  were  our  parents  and  friends,  who  were  some- 


172       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

what  astonished  to  see  the  ship  and  men.  "We  passed 
many  hours  in  their  company,  and  almost  wished  our- 
selves in  their  place,  to  walk  quietly  away,  with  no 
sentry  at  hand  to  order  iis  back.  As  ferry  boats 
passed  near  the  ship,  we  could  see  many  familiar 
faces,  and  often  saluted  them,  as  the  boats  ploughed 
their  way  from  one  shore  to  the  other.  We  ate  but 
little  of  the  navy  rations ;  the  hard-tack,  tea  and  pork 
were  the  only  articles  we  cared  about,  and  having 
a  fair  supply  of  money  at  our  disposal,  we  purchased 
such  other  food  as  we  wanted. 

We  were  not  long  in  learning  that  these  ships,  like 
many  others,  present  broad  fields  for  the  labors  of 
temperance  lecturers.  How  many  speakers  are  pour- 
mg  out  their  eloquence  before  crowded  houses,  who 
could  put  in  motion  a  grand  reform,  if  they  would 
take  an  mterest  in  the  seamen.  I  have  seen  sailors 
trying  every  way  to  keep  liquor  about  them,  and 
when  "  Grog  oh  "  was  piped,  their  eyes  would  glisten 
as  they  took  their  regular  nip.  A  great  blessing  was 
bestowed  upon  the  sailors,  when,  the  whiskey  rations 
were  discontinued  on  government  vessels.  One  step 
more  in  this  direction  is  called  for,  and  that  is  a  law 
forbidding  an  officer,  high  or  low,  to  take  liquor  to 
sea. 

E-ecruits  were  constantly  arriving  in  companies  of 
eight  to  thirty  a  day,  and  though  the  "  Fear  Not " 
and  "  Cambridge  "  took  three  hundred  at  one  draft 
from  our  vessel,  there  seemed  to  be  as  many  on  board 
as  ever.  Men  for  the  Gemsbok  were  called  for,  and 
my  chum  and  myself  were  lucky  enough  to  be  drawn 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       173 

together.  We  had  been  five  weeks  in  the  "  Guardo," 
when  we  left  the  old,  clumsy  "  Ohio  "  for  the  jaunty, 
neat,  clipper  barque  which  was  anchored  in  the 
stream.  "  She  is  a  beauty,"  "  I  wish  I  was  going  in 
that  boat,"  and  "  My  turn  will  come  soon,"  were  the 
expressions  we  heard  as  the  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  picked  men  shouldering  their  hammocks  and  bags 
betook  themselves  to  the  boats,  and  were  quickly  set 
aboard  the  craft  that  was  to  be  their  home,  for  how 
long  they  knew  not. 

We  saw  the  muzzle  of  four  sixty-four  and  two  long 
thirty-two  pounders  projecting  from  the  half-ports. 
Everything  was  new  and  clean.  We  were  told  off 
into  messes  and  watches  ;  new  numbers  were  given, 
and  every  man,  from  that  hour,  was  to  sling  on  his 
own  hook.  We  lay  in  port  three  days.  Scenes  of 
great  activity  were  visible  around  us,  in  fitting  the 
different  ships  for  sea.  Amid  all  this  confusion  the 
frigate  "  Congress  "  arrived  from  the  Brazil  station, 
and  the  uncertainty  of  human  hopes  was  illustrated 
by  an  incident  which  passed  almost  unnoticed.  A 
seaman  on  board  of  her  fell  from  the  fore-topsail 
yard  ;  his  sheath  knife  entering  his  vitals  as  he  struck 
the  deck.  Thus,  in  sight  of  home  the  storm-tossed 
wanderer  expired,  and  the  body  given  to  his  friends 
for  burial. 

A  red  flag  was  flying  at  the  fore  on  our  vessel  to 
show  that  the  powder  was  being  taken  aboard,  and 
during  this  time  no  fire  was  allowed  in  any  part  of 
the  vessel.  This  done,  we  were  ready  to  sail.  The 
tug-boat  was  along  side,  the  anchor  on  the  bow,  and 


174       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life. 

soon  we  were  gliding  down  the  stream.  As  we 
passed  the  '' Congress,"  the  crew  mounted  the  rig- 
ging and  cheered  us,  while  letters  and  papers  dropped 
from  their  waving  caps.  Three  cheers  ;  and  we  re- 
turned them,  to  a  man. 

Smoothly  we  sailed  down  the  harbor,  past  the 
wharves,  and  shipping  anchored  in  the  stream  ;  past 
the  granite  forts,  the  islands  clothed  in  verdure,  and 
inward  bound  vessels,  large  and  small.  Clear  sailing 
was  ahead.  "  Lay  aloft  there,  main  and  fore-topmen." 
"  Lay  out,  cast  loose,  let  fall,  and  sheet  home,"  were 
the  orders  that  came  in  rapid  succession  from  the 
first  luff.  The  barque  was  enveloped  in  snowy-white 
canvas,  from  royal  to  deck ;  the  tug  cast  off,  and 
returned  to  the  city,  carrying  hastily-scrawled  letters 
and  papers ;  the  fast-fading  sun  settled  below  the 
western  hills  ;  we  gazed  on  the  receding  shore,  and 
as  the  gallant  vessel  breasted  the  waves  of.  the  wide 
Atlantic,  we  felt  happy  in  knowing  that  we  were 
away  from  the  confusion  and  vile  associations  of  the 
guard-ship,  with  the  work  of  true,  patriotic,  Ameri- 
can tars  before  us. 

Everything  passed  smoothly.  The  crew  were  exer- 
cised at  the  large  guns,  and  sail  trimming ;  the 
course  was  laid  S.  S.  W.  and  away  we  went  spanking 
for  Hampton  Roads.  As  night  came  on,  the  lands- 
men did  not  relish  standing  watch,  and  myself  and 
several  others,  as  substitutes,  pocketed  a  few  dollars. 
Sleepy  men  were  roused  from  between  the  guns,  and 
made  to  walk  the  deck  and  keep  awake.  An  enor- 
mous quantity  of  sand  and  water  was  used  on  the 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       175 

deck.  A  gang  with  the  holy-stone,  and  others  with 
blocks  of  sand-stone,  christened  "  prayer  books,"  were 
down  on  their  hands  and  knees  pretty  busily  em- 
ployed. I  was  at  first  placed  in  tlie  after-guard,  but 
was  soon  told  to  go  up  higher,  and  made  a  main-top- 
man,  on  the  grade  of  able  seamen.  I  was  next  put 
on  the  main-royal- yard,  and  it  became  my  special 
duty  to  look  out  for  that  stick  in  all  kinds  of  weather. 
I  had  enough  of  royal  yards  before  I  left  the  blockade. 

We  were  soon  in  at  f'ortress  Monroe,  and  were 
placed  far  up  the  river  to  repel  any  rebel  gun-boat 
that  might  appear,  —  a  nice  place  to  put  a  wooden 
ship  as  a  barrier  against  the  approach  of  rebel  iron- 
clads,—  but  none  made  their  appearance.  I  was 
soon  put  into  the  Captain's  gig,  for  I  could  swing  an 
eighteen-foot  oar,  and  thus  had  a  chance  to  stretch  my 
legs  on  shore,  once  in  a  while.  The  granite  walls, 
the  frowning  cannon,  the  sandy  shore,  and  the  steamers 
constantly  coming  and  going,  had  many  attractions 
for  me.  Men-of-war  were  arriving  every  day,  and  the 
Roads  began  to  look  lively.  The  "  Rip-Raps  "  were 
visited  by  us  two  days,  and  hundreds  of  tons  of  stone 
brought  in  the  boats  to  our  vessel.  The  men  worked 
all  night  taking  in  the  ballast,  and  made  the  hours 
pass  lively  by  crying  to  each  other,  "  0,  pass  along 
those  rip-raps ;  we  '11  sink  the  hooker  and  then  the  old 
man  will  be  satisfied."  At  length  there  was  stone 
enough,  and  we  went  to  the  lookouts  again,  night 
after  night. 

The  Rip-Raps  fort,  in  its  solidity  and  position,  is  a 
dangerous  obstacle,  to  an  enemy  seeking  to  enter  the 


176       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life, 

river.  Fortress  Monroe  and  the  Rip-Raps  can  bring 
the  heaviest  of  cannon  to  bear  on  any  vessel  seek- 
ing an  entrance  inside  the  capes.  The  frigate  ''  Cum- 
berland" went  up  the  river  to  shell  a  rebel  battery. 
Neat  and  trim  she  appeared  to  us,  as  the  little  tug 
took  her  in  tow,  and  led  her  up  the  yellow  stream,  — 
the  long,  black,  polished  cannon  peering  from  the 
ports,  the  crew  lounging  on  the  gallant  forecastle, 
and  the  hull,  and  bright  metal-work  gleaming  in  the 
sun  ;  while  on  the  wharf,  at  the  Rip-Raps,  glistened 
the  slender  Sawyer  gun  that,  at  the  third  shot  had 
recently  sent  the  tall,  rebel  flag-staff  and  flag  tumbling 
to  the  ground  at  Sewall's  Point. 

That  night  we  all  lay  beside  the  guns,  momentarily 
expecting  an  attack.  The  day  dawned.  The  frigate 
"  St.  Lawrence  "  came  up  the  bay  under  full  sail,  her 
gay  ensign  dancing  in  the  clear  warm  air.  Closely  fol- 
lowing her  was  the  short,  dark  hull  of  the  "  Alba- 
tross," towing  a  prize  schooner  that  she  had  lately 
captured.  A  number  of  officers  of  high  grade  came 
on  board,  and  after  a  short  speech  our  Captain  Voor- 
hees  took  leave  of  us,  bag  and  baggage,  and  Captain 
Cavendy,  a  large  and  important  appearing  personage 
came  in  command. 

The  mail-bag  was  fast  being  filled,  and  men  were 
running  around,  with  writing  materials  in  hand. 
*'  Who  will  write  me  a  letter  ?  come  on  now,  quick, 
somebody ;  I  '11  give  a  dollar,"  was  the  word  of  a 
blue-jacket  who  had  secured  a  position  to  write,  but 
could  not  think  of  anything  to  say. 

"  What  do  you  want  to  write  ? " 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       177 

"  I  dunno ;  write  anything,  and  then  read  it  to 
me ; "  and  in  two  minutes  the  letter  was  finished. 
"  Bully  for  you ;  that 's  just  what  I  was  a-going  to 
say,  only  I  can't  think  when  I  want  to.  Hold  on, — 
just  say  something  to  the  little  gal, —  tell  her  to  keep 
her  eye  peeled  for  me  when  my  time 's  out."  Satis- 
fied with  the  letter,  it  was  sealed  with  the  big,  heavy 
fist  of  the  sailor,  and  off  he  ran  to  give  it  to  the  of- 
ficer, and  was  just  in  time. 
^  It  was  at  the  close  of  a  day,  clear  and  hot,  when 
all  hands  were  hard  at  work  in  getting  the  ship  ready 
for  sea,  that  we  descended  to  the  berth-deck  for  sup- 
per. The  hot,  fragrant  tea  was  dipped  from  the 
mess-kettle,  while,  a  perfect  picture  of  content,  the 
cook  was  seated  on  a  chest,  witli  a  piece  of  pork  and 
a  hard  tack  in  one  hand,  and  a  tin  pot  in  the  other. 
Ah,  Bolkin,  what  a  knack  you  had  of  keeping  the 
bread-bag  full.  Tea,  pork,  bread  and  apple-sauce 
made  a  good  supper.  Six  bells  struck ;  eight  bells 
soon  followed,  and  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  "  bosons  " 
rang  out  on  the  evening  air. 

"  What 's  up  now  ?  listen  ! " 

"  All  hands  up  anchor." 

"  By  thunder,  I  was  just  a-going  to  turn  in." 

"  What !  is  the  old  man  going  out  to-night  ?  " 

*'  Well,  I  reckon  ho  is,  and  the  sooner  you  are  at 
your  station  the  better." 

The  shadows  of  a  September  night  were  flitting 
over  the  land,  and  pale-faced  Luna  was  walking  the 
sombre  heavens.  The  stars  came  out,  one  at  a  time, 
and  the  warm  wind  rose  from  the  west,  bringing 


178       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life, 

odors  of  pine  and  many  wild-wood  trees,  as  we  raised 
the  anchor  to  the  bow  and  drifted  down  the  muddy 
stream.  A  fair  position  was  taken,  and  the  men  laid 
on  the  yards  awaiting  orders.  The  ship's  head  swung 
with  the  current,  as  the  orders  rang  out  from  the 
quarter  deck.  As  if  by  some  magic  power,  spars, 
which  a  moment  previous  seemed  bare,  were  heavily 
clothed  with  white  canvas  that  gleamed  in  the  moon- 
light. Everything  was  set  fair  and  square,  and  away 
we  flew,  —  through  the  dark  lines  of  gunboats,  and 
frigates,  lying  at  anchor  in  the  roads.  Our  sails  cast 
a  great  shadow  that  to  us  appeared  like  a  phantom 
under  our  lea.  No  light  was  to  be  seen  on  Cape 
Henry.  The  long  line  of  trees  and  sand  was  plainly 
within  sight,  and  the  lights  of  the  shipping  twinkled 
and  finally  faded  away. 

The  white-capped,  rolling  ocean  was  before  us,  and 
our  ship  nodded  and  pitched  in  the  gentle  swell.  The 
off-watch  went  below,  and  we  settled  down  in  the  old 
monotony  of  night  watches.  The  watchful  lookouts 
sounded  their  calls  from  their  respective  stations,  as 
the  ship  was  heading  out  to  sea.  We  bade  good  bye 
for  a  while  io  Hampton  Roads,  and  welcomed  new 
scenes,  new  joys  and  perils. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       179 


CHAPTER    XYIII. 

A  Fine  Run  —  Capture  of  a  Prize  —  Water  Spouts  —  In  a  Gale  — 
Washing  Up — The  Chase — Another  Blockade  Runner  Taken 
—  A  Yankee  Trick  —  Rebel  Pilots  a  Little  out  of  their  Latitude  — 
Wilmington  Surprised  —  Arrival  of  the  "Young  Rover"  —  We 
Overhaul  a  Suspicious  Craft  —  The  '*  Blue  Pigeon  "  Kept  on  the 
Wing  —  A  Boat  Load  of  Contrabands  Appear  and  Disappear  — 
Capture  of  the  "  Beverly "  —  I  am  Off  with  the  Prize  —  The 
*'  Young  Rover  "  mistakes  us  for  a  Runner  and  Captures  Us. 


UNDAY  morning  at  daylight  we  saw  a  small 
schooner  running  for  the  land.  Our  barque 
was  hauled  up  to  the  wind,  and  the  white 
spray  silvered  our  path,  as  we  dashed  away  with  an 
eight-knot  breeze,  and  soon  the  bow-chaser  sent  a 
thirty-two  pound  shot  humming  across  her  bows. 
She  paid  no  attention  to  it,  but  crowded  all  sail  for 
the  land.  A  second  shot,  which  passed  between  her 
masts,  brouglit  her  to.  She  proved  to  be  the  Eng- 
lish schooner  "  Harmony "  from  Halifax,  trying  to 
run  the  blockade  with  a  load  of  fish,  salt,  butter,  and 
arms.  The  crew  were  quite  astonished  when  they 
found  that  they  were  prisoners.  Four  men  with  an 
officer  were  sent  to  the  schooner  as  a  prize  crew,  and 
ordered  to  report  at  Philadelphia.  The  sails  were 
trimmed,  wheel  put  up,  and  our  departing  shipmates 
gave  a  farewell  wave  of  their  caps  as  the  little  craft 
glided  away  on  her  return  voyage. 


180       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life, 

The  weather  was  calm  and  pleasant,  as  we  drift- 
ed on  to  the  southward.  All  the  talk  was  of  prizes 
and  of  chasing  strange  vessels,  when  suddenly  the  air 
became  close  and  sultry.  Away  to  the  windward  a 
dark,  low  cloud  settled.  The  sea  was  in  great  com- 
motion and  a  column,  having  all  the  appearance  of 
smoke,  twisted  and  waved  between  the  water  and  up- 
per air.  The  column  was  in  the  form  of  an  inverted 
cone,  having  a  very  large  base,  and  moved  like  a 
phantom  of  gigantic  proportions,  followed  by  another 
of  the  same  shape,  but  of  less  size. 

"  Clear  away  the  forward  gun.'' 

"  All  ready,  sir." 

"Aim  point  blank, — fire." 

The  huge  globe  of  iron  was  hurled  from  the  sixty- 
four  pounder,  and  flew  like  a  black  pea,  straight  for 
the  swift-moving  water  spouts,  and  striking  near  them 
caused  them  to  collapse,  and  with  a  mighty  rush  of 
water,  return  to  the  ocean.  The  welcome  breeze 
came  up  and  filled  every  sail.  The  gun  was  secured, 
and  again  we  went  dipping  and  bobbing  on  our  regu-' 
lar  course. 

At  night  a  large  vessel,  with  her  battle  lanterns 
gleaming  through  the  ports,  came  down  upon  us 
under  an  immense  spread  of  canvas.  Our  decks 
were  cleared  for  action,  the  men  expecting  a  lively 
time,  but  she  proved  to  be  a  friend,  —  the  frigate 
"  Savannah,"  on  a  cruise.  At  midnight  we  captured 
a  schooner  with  a  load  of  fruit,  but  found  to  our 
chagrin  that  the  Navy  boys  had  charge  of  her,  for 
the  "  Savannah  "  had  taken  her  that  day.     That  night 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       181 

it  was  hard  work  to  keep  the  boat  in  good  trim  before 
a  fierce  gale  that  blew  like  a  hurricane.  Robinson, 
one  of  the  crew  of  the  boat,  was  lifted  from  his  seat 
by  the  force  of  the  waves,  and  thrown  overboard,  but 
escaped  a  watery  grave  with  only  a  loss  of  his  cutlass 
and  belt.  The  gale  increased.  The  barque,  under 
close  reefs,  wallowed  in  the  heavy  seas,  and  far  away 
we  could  see  the  glare  of  the  white  waves  as  they 
overtopped  each  other,  while  the  royal  and  top  gallant 
yards  were  sent  down,  and  the  guns  double  lashed. 

The  forked  lightening  played  about  the  masts,  the 
crash  and  rattle  of  the  thunder  being  terrible  to  hear, 
and  so  fierce  that  at  every  crash  it  seemed  as  though 
the  skies  were  splitting  to  fragments.  How  plainly 
visible  became  every  man's  face  in  the  bright  flashes. 
The  warm  rain  poured  in  broad  sheets,  and  every 
bucket  and  tub  was  filled.  As  the  first  flush  of  dawn 
appeared  in  the  east,  the  rain  had  ceased;  the  bo- 
son's whistle  was  heard  calling  "  All  hands  to  wash 
clothes,"  and  every  man  was  happy  in  being  able  to 
soak  and  wash  his  garments  in  the  fresh  water  that 
came  as  a  blessing  during  the  storm.  Scrubbing 
brushes  and  white-soap  did  their  duty  that  day,  on 
flannel  and  satinet.  The  crew  scrubbed  on  the  deck, 
with  sleeves  and  trowsers  tucked  up  out  of  the  wet. 

The  gunboats  "  Albatross  "  and  "  Cambridge  " 
came  close  upon  us,  and  the  respective  captains, 
having  exchanged  compliments,  left  and  headed  to 
the  southward.  We  then  steered  for  Cape  Lookout, 
with  a  clear  sky,  light  wind,  and  choppy  sea,  and  the 
next  day  sighted  the  lighthouse,  and  stood  along  the 


182       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

shore.  The  lookout  from  the  fore  royal  yard  reported 
a  sail  to  leeward,  heading  in  shore.  All  was  life  and 
bustle  ;  every  stitch  of  sail  was  spread,  and  the  lower 
stunsails  had  a  bag  of  cannon  shot  attached  to  them 
in  order  to  make  them  set  better,  and  with  the  pumps 
a  stream  of  water  was  thrown  upon  the  top-sail  yard. 

As  soon  as  we  were  seen,  the  stranger  crowded  all 
sail  and  made  an  effort  to  get  on  the  edge  of  thirty 
fathoms  from  shore,  and  thus  escape  the  danger  of 
being  taken  as  a  prize.  But  it  was  of  no  use  ;  we 
gained  on  her  like  a  dolphin  after  a  flying-fish.  One, 
two,  three  shots  were  fired,  the  last  going  through  her 
mainsail,  obliging  her  to  heave  to,  and  fall  into  our 
hands,  and  the  '^  Mary  E.  Pindar,"  a  secesh  schooner, 
was  soon  flying  the  Union  colors  and  on  its  way,  as  a 
prize,  to  Baltimore. 

Our  barque  was  put  about  and  run  for  the  land ; 
no  vessel  of  any  kind  being  in  sight,  save  the  prize, 
heading  up  the  coast.  We  drew  rapidly  in  with  the 
shore.  The  forts  that  protected  the  entrance  to  Wil- 
mington harbor  were  before  us,  and  yet  we  sailed 
steadily  on,  fair  in  view  of  the  batteries.  There 
was  no  appearance  of  a  man-of-war  about  us.  Flags 
and  pennants  were  concealed.  The  crew  vv^ere  hid- 
den beneath  the  rail,  except  the  men  who  were  needed 
to  work  the  vessel,  and  they  were  dressed  in  red 
shirts  and  old  hats.  The  Captain  was  the  only  officer 
visible  on  the  quarter,  and  a  ragged  coat  concealed 
his  uniform  and  straps.  The  guns  were  all  run  in, 
the  ports  closed,  and  a  signal  for  a  pilot  hoisted  at 
the  fore.    Steadily  we  kept  on  our  way ;  the  red-shirts 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.       183 

clewed  up  the  sails  and  furled  them  clumsily,  and 
soon  the  barque  was  hove  to,  right  in  the  face  of  the 
sand  liills,  and  batteries  that  could  at  a  moment's 
warning,  blow  us  out  of  water. 

In  the  distance  lay  the  city  of  Wilmington,  gleam- 
ing in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  the  large  brick 
stores  looming  up  far  above  the  wharves,  and  a  pilot 
boat,  containing  two  men,  rapidly  approached  us. 

"Hallo,  Cap',  I'm  glad  to  see  you  ;  been  looking 
for  you  this  two  weeks,"  shouted  the  best  looking  of 
the  two. 

"  Oh,  I  am  here,  after  a  fashion.  Any  Yanks 
about  ?  "  answered  our  Captain,  as  he  seated  himself 
on  the  rail,  pipe  in  hand,  and  quite  unconcerned, "  I 
want  to  be  in  port  as  quick  as  you  can  put  me  there." 

"  Can't  do  it  till  seven  o'clock.  Cap'.  If  you  are 
loaded  with  coffee  you  '11  have  a  good  market.  When 
did  you  leave  Rio  Janerio  ?  " 

Their  boat  was  made  fast  to  our  side,  and  the  pilots 
stood  on  their  seat,  bare-legged  and  happy. 

'•  Come  aboard,  my  boys,  and  take  a  cup  of  tea ;  I 
see  you  aint  in  any  hurry  to  go  on." 

"  That 's  so,  Cap' ;  we're  all  right,  any  how." 

They  ran  up  the  ladder  and  stood  on  the  quarter- 
deck. What  a  look  of  amazement  was  suddenly  depict- 
ed on  their  faces  ;  their  tongiies  seemed  fastened  to  the 
roofs  of  their  mouths,  as  they  realized  that  they  were 
deceived,  kidnapped  men.  The  Captain,  with  a  re- 
volver in  hand,  pointed  to  the  deck,  motioned  for 
them  to  descend,  and  they  did  so. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  my  lads,  you  are  on  a  Union 


184       Seven  Yectrs  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

gunboat  now ;  we  won't  hurt  you  if  you  behave,  but 
keep  a  still  tongue  in  your  head,  or  I  '11  tie  you  to  the 
yard-arm." 

This  was  the  old  man's  warning  to  the  sad,  de- 
sponding men.  We  all  lay  quiet  until  the  ship  was 
put  about ;  and  the  people  on  the  shore  thought  every 
thing  right  so  long  as  the  pilots  were  aboard.  A 
steady  wind  came  fresh  and  pure  down  the  river. 
We  were  about  a  gun-shot  from  the  forts  and  water 
defences,  when  the  Captain  waved  his  hand,  and  in- 
stantly all  the  officers  and  men  sprung  to  the  rigging 
and  cheered  in  the  faces  of  the  astonished  rebs  on  the 
shore.  The  Union  colors  danced  from  every  spar  on 
our  vessel. 

"  Cast  loose  and  provide,"  was  the  order. 

"Load  with  shell, —  ready,  two  points  abaft  the 
beam,  —  fire  !" 

The  smoke  rolled  away,  as  the  shells  from  our  six- 
ty-four pounder  went  like  thunderbolts  among  the 
rebs,  and  it  was  full  ten  minutes  before  they  could 
sufficiently  recover  from  their  astonishment  to  fire 
their  guns.  Even  then  they  were  too  much  excited 
to  fire  accurately,  and  their  solid  missiles  only  sent 
the  water  spouting  in  the  air.  We  then  gave  them  a 
farewell  shot,  and  with  a  cheer  that  sounded  loud 
and  long,  we  sailed  off,  scot  free,  with  flying  colors. 

The  pilot  boat,  built  of  red  cedar,  and  copper  fast- 
ened, was  hoisted  aboard  and  stowed  on  top  of  the 
galley.  It  was  twenty-three  feet  long,  splendidly  built, 
and  was  of  some  service  to  us  during  our  cruising,  as 
it  was  admii-ably  suited  to  the  creeks  and  bays ;  but  in 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.       185 

course  of  time  its  frailty  rendered  it  useless,  and  it 
was  split  up  for  kindling  wood,  and  myself  and  others 
amused  ourselves,  and  occupied  our  otherwise  idle 
moments  in  making  models  of  ships  from  the  soft 
wood  of  which  it  was  built. 

As  for  the  pilots,  they  took  their  capture  rather  dis- 
paringly,  and  growled  constantly  at  being  torn  from 
their  homes  and  families.  But  growling  did  not  bet- 
ter their  fortunes,  and  they  were  soon  put  in  mess 
No.  10,  and  were  joined  to  the  ship  as  ordinary  seamen. 
They  took  the  oath  of  allegiance  in  fear,  and  after  a 
time  became  good  Union  men,  and  a  great  help  to  us 
on  our  expeditions. 

We  stood  along  the  coast  until  we  came  to  Bouge 
inlet,  which  was  our  regular  station,  and  seeing  a 
steam-barque  approaching,  we  cleared  for  action.  We 
had  suspicions  that  it  might  be  the  "  Sumter,"  but 
it  proved  to  be  the  gun-boat  "  Young  Rover,"  from 
Boston,  on  a  cruise.  She  brought  us  papers  and  letters 
that  were  very  welcome,  then  bore  away  to  the  south- 
ward and  soon  disappeared  from  our  view,  although 
where  we  stood  was  her  appointed  cruising  ground. 

We  next  chased  a  large  ship,  the  "  James  Thomp- 
son ;  "  overhauled  her,  and  not  finding  anything  sus- 
picious, she  was  allowed  to  proceed  on  her  voyage. 
At  dusk  we  sighted  the  "  Young  Rover,"  steaming 
to  the  eastward.  Sounding  was  now  the  order  of 
exercise,  night  and  day,  and  the  voice  of  the  leadsman 
was  heard  all  the  time.  The  "  blue  pigeon  "  was  the 
subject  of  some  rather  plain  talk,  and  every  man  who 
could  throw  a  lead  had  his  two  hours  in  the  cliains, 


186       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

engaged  in  the  monotonous  occupation  of  keeping  that 
bird  on  the  wing.  A  fearful  gale  next  drove  us  in  the 
direction  of  the  gulf  stream,  and  as  the  men  could  not 
get  an  "  up  and  down  sound,"  the  Captain  ordered 
the  deep  sea-lead  and  line  prepared.  This  weighed 
nearly  forty  pounds,  upon  which  an  additional  weight 
consisting  of  sixty-four  pounds  of  shot  was  netted. 
The  men  had  been  hauling  the  line  all  night  and  were 
rather  out  of  sorts,  for  they  knew  there  was  water  un- 
der the  keel  to  the  depth  of  more  than  thirty  fathoms. 
The  Captain  would  not  be  satisfied.  He  dipped  the 
glass,  and  felt  the  water,  and  after  all,  threw  the 
mass  of  lead  and  iron  from  the  stern.  A  long  suc- 
cession of  white  bubbles  followed  the  line  into  the 
sea,  ninety  fathoms  and  no  bottom ;  new  lines  were 
bent  on,  and  one  hundred  and  sixty  fathoms  run  out, 
but  no  bottom  was  touched  ;  then  the  Captain  ordered 
the  line  to  be  hauled  in  and  stowed  away,  knowing 
that  the  gulf  stream  could  be  sounded  for  miles  and 
yet  no  soundings  secured.  The  men  rolled  their  cuds 
of  tobacco  in  their  mouths  as  they  gladly  hauled  in  the 
line.  After  this  the  "  blue  pigeon  "  was  seen  flying 
only  when  the  barque  was  in  sight  of  land. 

It  was  a  cool  October  day,  and  we  lay  at  anchor, 
off  Beaufort,  N.  C,  the  land  being  about  four  miles  to 
windward,  when  we  saw  a  boat  badly  managed,  loaded 
with  contrabands,  coming  toward  us,  a  white  shirt 
flying  from  the  mast-head  as  a  flag  of  truce.  We 
hove  up  our  anchor,  got  underway,  and  tacked  to  pick 
them  up,  but  looked  for  them  in  vain  ;  negroes  and 
boat  had  disappeared.    We  cruised  about  to  pick  up 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life,       187 

any  who  miglit  remain  alive,  but  not  one  was  found. 
Soon  after,  a  man  at  the  look-out  announced  a  sail  to 
leeward.  We  chased  her,  and  finding  it  to  be  the 
Young  Rover,  we  returned  and  anchored  in  seven 
fathoms  of  water.  In  the  morning  we  weighed 
anchor,  and  the  Young  Rover,  after  cruising  a  week 
with  us,  and  finding  no  prizes,  steamed  for  "  Frying 
Pan  Shoals,"  while  we  went  back  and  dropped  our 
anchor  near  the  Cape  lighthouse. 

The  next  morning,  for  dropping  a  heavy  block  from 
the  top,  and  denting  the  deck,  I  was  sent  to  the  royal 
yard,  to  keep  the  look-out  all  the  forenoon,  as  punish- 
ment. I  went  slowly  enough  up  the  rigging,  blaming 
myself  for  my  carelessness,  and  caring  not  whether 
any  sails  were  in  sight  or  not.  I  was  looking  listlessly 
from  my  cool,  lofty  perch,  into  the  town  of  Beaufort, 
when,  turning  suddenly  on  the  yard,  I  saw,  crawling 
for  the  land,  through  the  gray  mist  of  the  morning,  a 
large  schooner  with  every  sail  set.  With  all  the  power 
of  my  lungs  I  shouted,  "  Sail,  Ho."  The  officers  had 
the  windlass  manned,  and  the  sails  all  loosed  before 
the  Captain  could  get  on  deck,  and  in  ten  minutes 
time  the  ship  was  under  a  cloud  of  canvas,  trying  to 
head  off  the  strange  craft.  I  looked  down  on  the 
busy  scene  below  me,  and  felt  tip-top.  How  the  cool 
air  rushed  by  my  head  as  I  passed  an  arm  round  the 
mast,  and  watched  this  exciting  chase.  The  English 
flag  flew  from  the  main  peak  of  the  fleeing  vessel. 

"  Oh,  you  are 'a  good  prize,  fast  enough;  slap  a 
shot  into  her,  Mr.  Lunt,  if  she  don't  heave  to,  soon." 

The  Captain  was  excited.  "  What  water  have  you 
got?" 


188       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life. 

"  And  by  the  deep,  four,''  drawled  the  leadsman. 

"  And  a  quarter  less  four,"  came  the  regular  song. 

"Ready,  forward  —  fire."  The  lock  string  was 
jerked,  and  the  iron  messenger  spoke  in  strongest 
terms  to  the  English  runner,  "  You  must  heave  to." 
Down  came  her  flying-jib,  and  down  dropped  the 
main-peak. 

"  Lay  down  from  aloft,  Ned,  and  go  in  your  boat." 

I  was  in  the  gig  as  she  struck  the  water,  and  the 
next  moment  slipped  around  the  ship's  stern,  and 
away  we  pulled  for  the  prize.  We  boarded  her,  and 
In  a  wink  of  an  eye  she  had  changed  hands  —  a  good 
prize  to  our  barque.  She  was  the  "  Beverly,"  of 
Halifax,  N.  S.,  fitted  to  run  the  blockade,  and  loaded 
with  salt,  powder,  clothing,  dry  goods  of  all  kinds, 
and  a  few  kegs  of  butter. 

On  returning  to  the  barque,  my  name  was  called 
first  as  one  of  the  prize  crew  to  work  her  to  Balti- 
more. I  was  highly  pleased  at  this  fine  chance  to 
change  the  dullness  of  man-of-war  life,  and  with  four 
of  our  crew,  an  officer,  and  three  prisoners  we  took 
in  the  "  Harmony,"  I  followed  my  bag  and  hammock 
to  the  schooner.  The  sun  was  out  hot.  The  ocean 
was  slightly  ruffled  by  a  gentle  wind,  as  we  ran  up 
the  jib  and  main-peak,  trimmed  the  light  sails,  and 
bore  away  for  the  North.  This  schooner-working  was 
play  to  me,  and  I  was  all  right  as  far  as  good  living 
and  easy  times  were  concerned. 

The  barque  wore  round  on  the  opposite  tack,  and 
at  sunset  was  almost  out  of  sight.  The  night  shut 
down  dark,  warm,  and  calm.    I  had  a  good  supper 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^s  Life,       189 

under  my  jacket,  and  turned  in  for  two  hours  of 
sleep.  At  midnight  I  was  on  deck,  lounging  over 
the  iron  wheel,  and  conversing  with  the  master's- 
mate,  when  we  saw  a  line  of  flame  shoot  from  a  gun, 
and  a  shot  whizzed  across  our  bows.  The  flash  re- 
vealed a  gunboat  steaming  up  to  us,  and  the  laughing 
crew  grouped  at  the  guns.  Their  boat  boarded  us, 
and  claimed  us  as  a  prize,  but  had  the  laugh  turned 
on  them  as  our  officer  confronted  the  boarding  party. 
A  yell  of  derision  went  up  on  the  calm  night  air,  and 
the  disappointed  boat's  crew  returned  in  mortifica- 
tion and  anger  to  the  "  Young  Rover." 


190       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailors  Life. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

A  Dismal  Storm  —  At  Fortress  Monroe  —  Off  with  the  Prize  to 
Baltimore  —  A  Growling  Pilot  —  Contrasted  Scenes  —  Jack  Tar 
and  his  Prize  Money  — Transferred— The  Louisiana  — Hawking 
Chestnuts—  On  Board  the  Minnesota—  Good  Order  —  Neat  and 
Trim  —  Companion  in  my  African  Captivity,  on  Board  — A  Happy 
Meeting—  Fate  of  my  Old  Friend  —  The  Gemsbok—  Bad  Reports 
—  Exit  of  Incompetent  Officers. 

T  held  calm  all  night,  and  in  the  morning  no 
"^V/F^  sail  was  in  sight.  As  the  sun  arose,  a  gentle 
^3-  breeze  sprung  up,  and  after  guying  out  the 
booms,  we  laid  down  on  the  top  of  the  house  and 
sunned  ourselves.  We  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  fish, 
and  occasionally  managed  to  take  a  few,  with  raw 
pork  for  bait.  On  the  second  day  after  leaving  the 
barque,  we  found  ourselves  among  masses  of  gulf 
weed,  and  we  drew  in  bunches  of  it,  glistening  with 
round  berries,  and  alive  with  the  little  sea  insects  that 
dropped  and  squirmed  from  the  yellow  branches.  A 
large  turtle  was  seen  floating  on  the  water ;  but  he 
dove  and  disappeared  before  we  could  reach  him. 
One  of  our  crew  was  appointed  cook,  and  there  being 
a  great  plenty  of  provision  aboard,  we  lived  well. 

On  Sunday  the  officer  read  prayers,  from  his  book, 
and  a  chapter  from  the  Bible,  but  the  men  paid  little 
attention  to  the  formal  service,  prefcring  to  watch  the 
dolphins  swimming  around  the  vessel.     The  weather 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       191 

continued  mild,  with  light,  variable  winds,  and  the 
course  steered  was  N.  N.  E.,  in  order  to  clear  the  Hat- 
teras'  shoals.  The  gun-boats  "  Cambridge,"  and 
"  Monticello,"  boarded  us,  and  gave  to  our  keeping 
their  letter  bags.  The  fair  wind  which  we  had 
during  the  day,  at  night  piped  and  ripened  for  a 
gale ;  still  on  we  scudded,  making  the  most  of  the 
welcome  Sou'-wester,  and  did  not  reef  until  the  next 
morning. 

Suddenly  the  wind  lulled,  and  the  schooner  rolled 
and  slatted  in  the  running  sea,  the  wind  coming  in 
squalls  from  the  Nor'west,  and,  in  four  hours  time  it 
settled  into  a  gale.  The  mainsail  was  furled,  and 
preventer  sheets  put  on  the  fore  boom.  New  lashings 
secured  the  sail  and  booms,  and  going  to  the  wheel, 
I  rolled  it  down,  while  two  men  eased  off  the  fore- 
sheets.  She  was  thus  hove  to,  and  rode  the  gale  out 
bravely,  though  it  blew  so  furiously  that  no  one  could 
look  to  the  windward,  more  than  a  minute  at  a  time. 
The  sail  stood  all  the  blasts,  and  it  gave  us  joy  to  see 
everything  hold  so  good  and  strong. 

An  additional  man  was  at  the  wheel,  day  and  night, 
ready  to  put  up  the  helm  and  scud  her  if  the  case  re- 
quired it.  At  length  the  wind  abated  ;  the  storm- 
tossed  craft  could  set  a  little  more  sail,  and  head  up  to 
the  land.  The  green  and  white  rollers  grew  smaller 
each  hour,  and  then  the  sun's  rays  burst  in  gorgeous 
splendor  over  the  heaving  sea.  Stray  vessels  were 
met,  showing  spare  sail,  and  the  Nor'-wester  was  at 
an  end. 

In  taking  an  observation  at  noon,  we  found  we  had 


192       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 

drifted  eighty  miles  to  the  eastward  of  Hatteras,  and 
as  soon  as  prudent,  we  clapped  on  all  sail  to  make 
up  for  lost  time.  My  only  duty  was  to  steer  the  last 
half  of  the  night,  but  one  fine  afternoon  I  rigged  a 
lead,  took  soundings,  and  found  we  had  fifteen  fath- 
oms of  water,  and  a  fine  sandy  bottom.  I  went  to 
the  fore-cross-trees  and  could  distinguish,  far  away, 
the  loom  of  the  land,  by  compass  bearing,  N.  W.,  and' 
returned  to  the  deck,  assured  that  we  should  see  Cape 
Henry  the  next  day ;  and  at  daylight  its  low,  sandy 
shore  was  in  full  view.  The  wrecks  of  two  vessels 
lay  on  the  beach,  and  the  lighthouse  looked  like  a 
ghostly  and  battered  sentinel,  whose  glory  had  de- 
parted. 

The  pilot  boat  "  Coquette  "  boarded  us,  transferred 
a  pilot  to  our  deck,  and  in  a  few  hours  we  were  an- 
chored off  the  wharf  at  Fortress  Monroe.  We  lay 
there  two  days,  repairing  the  little  damage  the  gale 
had  done,  cleaning  the  rusty  guns  and  pistols,  for 
which  we  had  no  use,  and  lying  on  the  house, 
watched  the  ever-changing  scenes  in  the  harbor ;  then 
quietly  weighed  anchor  and  sailed  for  Baltimore. 

The  pilot  we  had  was  a  cross-grained,  stubborn 
piece  of  humanity,  and  the  men  told  him  to  "  go  to 
the  devil "  each  half  hour,  complimenting  him  with 
the  remark,  —  "Anybody  can  take  a  schooner  up 
Chesapeake  Bay,  and  pilots  for  Government  vessels 
are  nuisances."  Yet  with  all  the  efforts  of  the  pilot 
to  clear  shoal  water  the  schooner  was  run  aground  a 
dozen  times  before  we  reached  the  fort  on  the  river. 

We  saw  thousands  of  ducks  on  the  surface  of  the 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       193 

bay,  or  rising  from  the  reedy  shores,  and  pleasant  it 
"was  to  us  to  sail  past  the  land  with  its  hills  clothed  in 
verdure,  and  to  look  upon  the  farmers'  houses  so  cosily 
settled  among  the  trees.  Occasionally  we  heard  heavy 
cannonading,  the  warm  Sou'wester  bringing  it  plainly 
to  our  ears. 

The  beauty  of  the  shore  was  in  strange  contrast 
with  the  scenes  on  ship-board.  The  pilot  was  at  the 
shakey  wheel,  spurting  tobacco  juice  on  the  deck,  and 
otherwise  exercising  himself  in  dodging  the  large 
steamers  and  outward  bound  ships  that  were  being 
towed  down  the  bay.  The  cook  in  his  seven-by-nine 
hole  was  making  some  "  burgoo  "  for  dinner,  dirty  as 
a  sea-cook  could  be,  and  forcibly  reminding  us  that 
if  sailors  died  as  soon  as  they  had  eaten  their  peck 
of  dirt,  but  few  would  be  long  in  existence.  Will 
the  Navy  boys  ever  forget  this  little  voyage  and  its 
incidents ; 

With  Thompson,  Johnson,  Beckett,  and  Ball : 
And  "  Sally  Back,"  the  Captain  of  all  ? 

We  went  on  famously.  The  river  "  pungies " 
rushed  past,  and  sharp  steering  was  required  in  order 
to  avoid  the  oyster,  market,  and  fishing  boats  that 
were  crowded  on  our  course.  We  passed  them  all  safe- 
ly ;  soon  the  health  officers  came  aboard,  and  after  an 
examination,  reported  our  crew  "  as  healthy  as  pigs  ;" 
then  with  the  wind  and  tide  in  our  favor,  we  glided 
smoothly  up  the  harbor.  The  shrill  notes  of  the  fife, 
with  the  roll  of  the  drum  sounded  cheerily  on  the  mild 
evening  air.   What  a  strange  medley  was  about  us, — 


194       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

the  scream  of  the  engine  whistle,  the  dash  of  the 
steamer's  proj^eller,  the  long  line  of  deeplj-laden 
barges,  the  men-of-war  lying  at  anchor,  black-hulled 
and  grim  with  cannon,  and  the  fall  of  the  bunting 
at  sunset. 

We  lowered  our  sails  and  dropped  anchor  near  the 
guardo  "  Alleghany,"  and  then  furled  the  canvas 
to  the  booms,  and  cleared  the  deck  so  that  we  might 
appear  respectable.  Our  officer  was  soon  ashore,  and 
in  less  than  an  hour  the  schooner  was  snugly  moored 
to  the  pier,  and  we  had  no  more  to  do  with  the  cap- 
tured vessel.  What  a  glorious  opportunity  has  Jack 
Tar  to  get  an  insight  into  the  "  tricks  of  trade  "  be- 
fore any  of  the  prize  money  he  bravely  earns  comes 
into  his  possession.  He  is  humbugged  by  agents, 
lawyers,  and  government  rogues  so  persistently  and 
thoroughly  that  the  "  big  pile  "  he  so  fondly  looks  for 
as  his  own  is  reduced  to  a  very  small  one. 

The  people  scarcely  realize  the  value  of  that  living 
wall,  which  in  the  hour  of  our  country's  danger,  was 
reared  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  Too  much  credit  can- 
not be  given  to  the  soldier  and  sailor  at  any  time  ; 
and  those  haughty,  conceited  people,  who  were  wont 
to  exclaim  "  Only  a  private/'  "  Only  a  common  sail- 
or," may  yet  be  obliged  to  own  the  superiority  of  those 
humble,  brave,  and  glorious  bands  of  men. 

"  Come,  get  aboard  the  tug  with  your  luggage. 
Good  bye,  old  boat.  Where  is  old  Sally  Back  ?  Say, 
Cap',  where  are  we  going  now  ? " 

•  "  Well,  my  lads,  you  are  going  k>  the  Louisiana, 
and  then  to  the  Minnesota. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       195 

Bang,  slap  bang,  walked  the  propeller,  through  the 
muddy  water,  and  soon  we  reached  the  high  side  of 
the  transport "  Louisiana."  There  were  five  of  us  who 
were  to  be  transferred  to  the  forty-four  gun  frigate, 
our  master's  mate  having  left  for  parts  unknown. 
Up  we  went,  bag  and  hammocks,  and  were  properly 
stowed  away. 

"  See  the  beef  critters  on  the  forward  deck.  Ph, 
I  wish  I  was  on  my  dad's  farm  in  Stoneham,"  was 
the  first  exclamation  of  Johnson. 

"  Well,  there  is  a  goodly  number  of  ladies  here,  I 
wonder  if  they  are  religious,  or  going  to  the  hospital," 
sagely  remarked  the  ever  soft-hearted,  dirty,  and  timid 
Ball,  while  Beckett  and  myself  busied  ourselves  hunt- 
ing after  "  Sally  Back,"  and  a  supply  of  tobacco. 
We  started  to  go  ashore,  when  the  guard  gently  drop- 
ped the  bright  barrel  of  his  gun  in  our  path.  "  Can't 
help  it,  boys;  that  officer  of  yours  said,  'Don't  let 
my  men  leave  the  ship,'  "  and  we  walked  back  again 
over  the  gangway  plank,  but  soon  found  a  messen- 
ger, in  the  shape  of  a  negro,  who  was  selling  roasted 
and  boiled  chestnuts. 

"  Say,  old  fellow." 

"  Yes,  marsa." 

"  Just  you  run  up  street  and  buy  us  pipes  and  to- 
bacco, and  I  '11  take  your  place  and  sell  the  nuts  till 
you  return." 

He  kindly  accepted  my  proposition  and  started 
on  his  errand.  I  took  his  stand,  and  portrayed,  in 
a  loud  voice,  the  virtues  of  boiled  chestnuts,  to  the 
passengers,  till  the  stock  in  trade  was  all  sold.    The 


196       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 

people  appeared  to  relish  my  hawking  talents,  and  I 
was  enabled  to  give  the  contraband  quite  a  collection 
of  small  change,  all  of  which  mightily  pleased  him, 
and  I  received  a  perfect  shower  of  honest  thanks. 

Our  officer  did  not  appear,  and  we  felt  indignant 
at  his  forgetfulness  of  us,  and  the  question  came  up 
as  to  what  we  were  to  do,  for  food  and  rest.  I  soon 
settled  this  by  applying  to  the  lieutenant  of  the  boat, 
a  soldier  and  a  gentleman. 

"  Well,  boys,  your  officer  was  unfair  to  leave  you 
in  such  a  way  ;  he  should  have  gone  with  you  to  the 
frigate ;  but  I  '11  give  you  your  meals  and  lodging, 
and  that  is  all  I  can  do." 

This  was  all  we  wanted  ;  and,  thanks  to  his  kind- 
ness, we  were  provided  with  food  and  accommodations 
as  generously  as  the  passengers. 

In  the  evening,  while  the  steamer  was  ploughing 
her  way  through  the  calm  waters  of  the  bay,  I  strolled 
to  the  upper  deck,  to  have  a  smoke  by  myself,  and 
was  joined  by  a  lady  and  her  husband,  who  saw  me 
peddling  the  chestnuts,  and  in  their  company  the 
evening  passed  pleasantly  away. 

The  steamer,  with  its  lofty  chimneys  towering  far 
above  the  long,  white  hull  and  yellow  painted  wheel 
houses,  moved  swiftly  on  its  way,  the  dark  shores 
gradually  faded  into  one  long,  black  line,  as  we 
emerged  into  the  open  bay,  and  I  descended  the  lad- 
ders, retired  to  my  berth,  and  had  just  time  to  catch 
a  cat-nap  before  the  gong  sounded  for  breakfast. 
Well  I  knew  it  was  the  last  bite  of  steak  and  soft 
bread  I  should  receive  for  many  a  month  to  come. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       197 

All  was  dark  on  deck,  but  light  and  life  in  the  cabin. 
Long  tables  were  filled  with  passengers  who  were  do- 
ing justice  to  the  dainty  viands. 

The  steamer  rounded  old  Point  Comfort,  and  in  a 
few  moments  the  Minnesota's  barge  was  alongside. 
The  floating  palace  was  moored  to  the  wharf,  and 
the  passengers  hurried,  like  so  many  wild  school  boys, 
in  every  direction.  We  followed  our  hammocks  and 
bags  to  the  boat ;  the  double  banked  oars  were  lifted 
and  dropped  with  one  motion,  and  straight  across  the 
stream  we  were  borne  to  the  frigate,  whose  fabric  of 
rope  and  spars  loomed  up  like  a  monster  cobweb,  in 
the  dull  haze  of  the  November  morning.  The  air 
was  cool  and  bracing,  but  well  we  knew  that  at  noon 
the  sun  might  scorch  us  with  its  furious  glare,  and 
at  night  an  extra  flannel  undershirt  might  be  wel- 
comed as  a  protection  against  the  heavy  night  dew. 

We  reached  the  Minnesota  in  good  time.  The 
oar-blades  were  laid  in  ;  the  bow-man  fastened  his 
boat-hook  to  the  ring  bolt,  or  boat  warp,  and  ascended 
the  well-scrubbed  steps  to  the  spar  deck.  We  were 
soon  assigned  a  mess,  and  a  place  to  put  our  luggage. 
There  were  many  prize  men  aboard, —  nine  hun- 
dred men,  all  told.  Everything  was  ship-shape  about 
the  hull  and  rigging.  The  eleven  inch  forward  gun 
was  polished  to  a  jet  black,  as,  also,  were  the  bat- 
teries on  the  spar  and  gun  decks.  The  rule  seemed 
to  be, — "  a  place  for  everything  and  everything  in 
its  place,"  and  a  rule  that  was  well  observed.  Piles 
of  shot,  grape  and  cannister  met  the  eye.  Men  were 
walking  the  white,  spotless  deck,  in  twos  and  threes. 


198       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life, 

Others  were  squatted  about  the  guns,  for  the  deck 
was  yet  damp,  else  they  would  all  have  been  sewing 
on  various  garments.  Each  one  knew  his  work  and 
his  station,  and  that  to  do  his  duty,  keep  civil  and 
clean  was  the  order  of  the  day,  and  all  that  was  ex- 
pected. 

Men  were  washing  the  sleep  from  their  eyes  with 
salt  water  ;  the  contrabands  were  wringing  swabs, 
and  scrubbing  the  copper  hoops  on  the  spittoons  ;  and 
the  cross  old  boatswain  was  watching  all  the  opera- 
tions ;  the  fragrance  of  pure  coffee  and  "  scouse " 
arose  from  the  many  mess  cloths,  and  soon  the 
shrill  whistle  piped  the  men  to  breakfast.  But  not 
wishing  a  second  meal,  I  went  forward  for  a  smoke. 
The  deck  was  nearly  deserted  of  men,  and  the  quar- 
ter-master walked  the  bridge  with  steady  tramp. 

"  Hallo,"  I  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  who  is  that  fel- 
low coming  down  the  deck  quite  unconcerned  about 
his  grub  ?     Bridges,  is  that  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  thank  God,  I  see  you  again." 

"  How  are  you.  Coast  of  Africa  ?  Well,  who  would 
have  thought  of  seeing  you?  When  did  you  get 
home,  and  leave  ? " 

He  told  me  all  of  his  adventures  ;  that  he  had  left 
Aden  in  the  English  ship  "Annie  ; "  went  to  London, 
from  thence  to  Quebec,  in  Canada,  and  walked  from 
there  to  his  home  in  Beverly. 

I  was  truly  glad  to  see  him,  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart,  and  while  in  the  Minnesota  we  were  always 
together.  Poor  Jack  !  a  rebel  bullet  sent  his  brave 
spirit  out  of  this  world  while  doing  duty  on  the 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sajlor's  Life.       199 

Carolina  river,  and  his  bones  lay  for  a  long  time  in 
Plymouth  graveyard,  until  kind  hands  removed  them 
to  the  place  that  was  his  boyhood's  home.  May  the 
dews  gently  fall  on  his  grave,  and  on  the  graves  of 
every  other  patriot,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific 
shores  ;  and  may  the  spirits  of  those  noble  soldiers 
and  sailors,  as  they  wing  their  way  to  brighter  worlds, 
be  able  to  say,  "  Our  bodies  were  not  sacrificed  in 
vain." 

The  days  wore  slowly  on  ;  an  attendance  upon  in- 
spection or  drill,  and  muster,  comprised  all  our  duty. 
The  pie  boat  came  every  day,  and  those  men  whose 
good  fortune  it  was  to  have  loose  money,  laid  in  an 
abundant  supply  of  such  fancy  rations.  Cards,  props, 
and  tetotum  were  always  in  motion  in  sly  places. 
Thieves  abounded ;  a  proof  of  which  I  had,  when  on 
going  to  my  clothes-bag  one  night,  I  found  two  pounds 
of  tobacco,  and  a  black  silk  neck-tie  gone.  I  told 
no  one  of  my  loss,  for  it  would '  have  done  no  good ; 
and  tlie  next  time  I  went  to  open  the  bag  I  found  a 
new  pair  of  pants,  and  shirts  rolled  together.  I  put 
them  on  and  wore  them  out  in  time. 

Prize  crews  were  constantly  coming  to  the  frigate ; 
and  one  day,  as  I  lounged  by  the  big  gun,  I  saw  a 
barque,  under  full  sail,  flying  up  the  bay.  It  was  the 
*•  Gemsbok."  I  could  not  mistake  that  high,  black 
bow,  and  the  tasty  figure-head  of  "Miss  Gemsbok," 
as  the  old  tars  used  to  call  the  dashing  wooden  girl 
under  the  bowsprit.  I  have  seen  the  men  sit  on  the 
dolphin  striker  guys  and  look,  for  hours  at  a  time,  at 
that  pretty  figure-head. 


200       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

In  came  the  barque,  with  flags  well  displayed, 
and  the  swelling  canvas  taking  her  over  the  muddy 
stream  at  a  flying  pace.  She  dipped  her  colors  as 
she  shot  past,  and  as  sail  after  sail  was  clewed  up, 
and  the  wheel  rolled  down,  she  lessened  her  headway, 
and  slowly  backed  astern.  Then  splash  went  the  big 
anchor.  The  chain  tautened  at  thirty  fathoms,  the 
men  clustered  in  the  tops,  and  the  next  moment  lay 
out  on  the  black  yards,  and  the  hemp  was  speedily 
put  out  of  sight  against  the  wood.  The  barque  sent 
her  boat  to  the  frigate  to  report  and  take  us  aboard. 

"  How  do  you  prosper,  now-a-days,  my  lads  ?  " 

"  0,  you  hold  on  till  you  get  aboard  ;  the  barque 
is  a  prison  afloat.  We  have  kept  cruising  day  and 
night,  and  if  I  had  had  your  chance,  I  should  have 
run  away." 

"  Anybody  died  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  No  ;  nor  we  have  n't  seen  a  prize  since  you  left.  I 
hope  the  Captain  will  put  you  back  to  the  gig ;  then 
you  will  get  enough  of  pulling  about." 

"  Lay  along  here,  you  prize  men,  get  your  luggage 
and  go  in  the  boat."  In  a  few  minutes  we  were  at  our 
own  vessel's  side.  The  Captain  was  watching  us,  pipe 
in  hand,  as  usual.  "  Ah,  my  men,  you  're  all  alive ; 
go  to  your  duties."  We  were  astonished  at  the  over- 
beari])g  disposition  of  the  young  officers.  The  crew 
were  sulky  and  quarreling,  and  the  orders  were  given 
by  the  officers  as  if  they  were  despots  in  command  of 
a  gang  of  cringing  slaves.  What  had  made  the 
change  ? 

''I  '11  tell  you,  Ned,"  said  one  of  the  men  to  me, 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       201 

"  we  were  ready  to  rise  and  throw  the  first  and  second 
lieutenant  overboard,  take  the  barque  and  go  pirating, 
if  we  had  not  come  here.  We  will  make  those  hounds 
leave  the  ship  in  disgrace  in  less  than  two  days.  Mark 
my  words  and  see  if  we  don't." 

The  complaints  were  laid  before  the  admiral ;  As 
the  mortified  officers  addressed  the  men,  scoffs  and 
groans  were  freely  given  in  return,  and,  as  they  left 
the  ship  forever,  the  crew  sprung  into  the  rigging,  and 
gave  three  hearty  groans,  and,  in  doing  so,  aroused 
all  the  vessels  at  anchor.  Old  quids  of  tobacco 
and  curses  followed  them,  and  then  the  Captain  came 
to  the  break  of  the  poop  and  made  a  fine  speech  on 
future  behavior.  After  this  the  men  conducted  them- 
selves with  all  honor. 

The  barque  was  the  better  for  having  got  rid  of  these 
three  officers.  One  of  them  had  but  little  sense  ;  the 
others  in  their  own  estimation,  knew  too  much  for 
their  own  good.  One  of  the  latter  told  the  men  he 
was  a  "  tiger,"  and  proved  it  by  his  conduct ;  and  the 
other  made  the  men  go  aloft  in  shirt-sleeves  during 
the  coldest  weather.  I  have  seen  officers  of  the  Navy, 
choice  young  upstarts,  who  did  not  know  how  many 
ropes  there  were  in  a  ship,  who  could  not  draw  up  a 
day's  work,  keep  a  log,  or  steer  a  ship,  put  in  com- 
mand over  men  who  had  passed  their  lives  at  sea ; 
and  yet ''  the  articles  "  were  read  over  every  Sunday, 
until  the  men  had  "  death  if  you  draw  or  offer  to 
draw,  strike  or  offer  to  strike  a  superior  officer  '*  so 
stamped  on  their  memories,  that  the  word  "  officer  " 
filled  them  with  hatred.     "  I  '11  lay  my  life  down  for 


202       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 

Buch  a  one,"  and  "  I  '11  see  that  devil  sink  before  I  '11 
help  him,"  were  every-day  exclamations.  Men  are 
men  ;  not  brutes,  as  some  people  seem  to  think. 
Treat  a  man  like  a  man,  and  he  knows  it ;  but  act 
towards  him  as  though  he  was  a  dog,  and  you  will 
receive  a  dog's  usage,  and  deserve  it. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,      203 


CHAPTER    XX. 

Off  before  a  Nor'wester — A  Gale — Suspicious  Steamers  —  "A 
Full-Rigged  Brig  "  in  View  — Every  Sail  in  Service  — We  Rapidly 
Approach  our  Game  and  find  that  we  have  been  Chasing  a  Light- 
house —  Auction  Sale  of  a  Letter  —  Beaufort  —  Cruising  —  A 
Practical  Joke  — "To  Grease  we  Give  our  Shining  Blades"  — 
Foraging  for  Fresh  Beef — A  Skirmish  with  the  Rebels. 


were  in  Hampton  Roads  a  week,  and  hav- 
ing taken  in  water  and  stores,  sailed  with  a 
fair  wind.  The  Burnside  Expedition  sailed 
on  the  same  day.  As  we  passed  Cape  Henry  we  saw 
a  large  brig,  high  and  dry,  ashore.  We  dashed  away 
before  a  cold  Nor'-wester,  and  in  eighteen  hours  from 
the  time  we  lifted  anchor,  had  the  light  yards  and 
spars  sent  down.  The  gale  raged  with  unabated  fury. 
We  had  the  barque  under  a  close-reefed  main-topsail, 
and  with  preventer  braces  on  the  yard,  flew  on  the 
waves,  straight  as  an  arrow  from  a  bow.  We  out- 
ran every  other  vessel,  and  at  daylight  the  gale  broke 
and  we  cleared  Cape  Hatteras  without  loss. 

Three  days  after  this  heavy  blow,  there  was  a  still, 
dead  calm.  The  ship  lay  with  every  sail  flat  to  the 
mast,  and  a  warm,  cheerful  sun  overhead.  The  man 
on  the  lookout  reported  two  steamers  fast  bearing 
down  on  us,  so  we  cleared  for  action,  clewed  up  the 
sails,  and  double-shotted  the  guns.  On  came  the  sus- 
picious steamers;    their  colors  hung  so  low  in  the 


204       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life. 

calm,  dead  air,  that  we  could  not  tell  whether  they 
were  flags  or  not.  As  they  rushed  past  our  vessel  and 
laid  on  our  port-hand,  their  long  thirty-two's  looked 
us  fair  in  the  eye.  What  a  load  was  taken  from  our 
hearts  when  they  announced  themselves  as  the  United 
States  gunboats  "  Connecticut "  and  "  New  London  '' 
on  a  cruise.  How  happy  we  felt  when  the  old  flag 
danced  out  on  the  light  breeze  ;  for  had  those  steamers 
been  rebel  gun-boats  we  should  have  been  entirely  at 
their  mercy. 

We  were  soon  favored  with  a  fair  wind  that  bore 
us  to  the  westward,  and  the  lookout  reported  a  sail 
ahead.  In  a  few  moments  the  second  lieutenant  had 
his  glass  up  aloft,  and  announced,  with  much  joy  to 
the  deck,  "  A  full  rigged  brig  running  with  ail  sail 
for  the  land."  All  the  other  officers  except  the  Cap- 
tain were  equally  excited,  and  drove  the  barque  as 
fast  as  they  could.  The  Captain  let  them  have  their 
own  way,  and  smiled  grimly  when  the  officer  of  the 
deck  told  the  helmsman  to  "  steer  straight  into  a  mos- 
quito's eye."  Stunsails  caught  every  breath  of  air  ; 
everything  was  braced  to  a  hair,  and  we  gained  rapid- 
ly on  the  supposed  brig.  At  sunset  the  Captain  gave 
the  order,  "  Brace  up  sharp,  and  take  in  stunsails." 
Then  the  officers  saw  through  their  mistake,  and  dis- 
covered by  their  glasses  that  we  had  been  chasing  the 
tall  light-house  of  Cape  Lookout  all  the  afternoon. 
The  Captain  knew  it  all  the  time,  and  thought  the 
men  might  have  a  little  exercise,  and  the  officers  a 
chance  to  find  out  the  blunder  they  had  made. 

We  continued  on  our  way  with  gentle  breezes,  and 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.       205 

at  daylight  sighted  a  barque  near  the  land.  All  sail 
was  placed  on  our  vessel,  and,  to  our  surprise,  the 
stranger  came  down  on  us  with  full  sail.  The  Union 
banner  danced  from  her  spanker-gaff,  and  the  long 
"  coach  whip "  proclaimed  her  a  Yankee  gunboat. 
We  had  cleared  for  action,  and  would  have  been 
pleased  if  she  had  proved  an  enemy,  but  it  was  the 
gunboat  "  Fernandina,"  a  dark,  piratical  looking 
craft  that  sailed  like  a  witch. 

We  ran  down  the  coast  under  light  sail,  and  had 
fine  weather  for  a  week  longer.  Our  barque  was  in 
splendid  trim,  and  all  went  smooth.  In  making  the 
crow's-foot  fast  to  the  awning  I  fell,  for  the  first  time 
at  sea,  and  struck  heavily  on  the  signal  chest.  Friend- 
ly arms  carried  me  to  my  hammock,  and  I  laid  there 
a  week  before  I  could  "  turn  to  "  again. 

The  steamer  "  Mt.  Yernon  "  came  to  us,  and  let- 
ters were  expected ;  but  only  two  came  aboard,  one 
to  the  Captain  and  one  to  myself.  I  had  great  sport, 
as  I  sat  up  in  the  hammock,  and  the  men  crowded 
around,  wanting  to  buy  my  letter. 

"Is  that  from  a  girl,  Ned  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  one  I  vised  to  know." 

"  I  '11  give  you  a  dollar  for  it,  just  to  read ;  you 
shall  have  it  back  again." 

There  were  fifty  men,  full  of  fun,  at  hand,  and 
bound  to  see  that  letter  ;  so  I  put  it  up  at  auction, 
and  when  the  bid  reached  five  dollars,  I  quietly  hand- 
ed to  the  excited  young  man  the  precious  note,  and 
tucked  the  currency  into  my  wristband.  That  letter 
was  sold  and  resold  until  the  game  was  all  played 
out,  and  the  fun  ended. 


206       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailors  Life. 

We  had  fine  cruising  weather,  with  now  and  then 
a  thunder  storm,  and,  as  we  sagged  down  the  coast, 
saw  the  wreck  of  the  transport  "  Union  "  on  the  low, 
sandy  beach.  Glasses  soon  discovered  a  large  con- 
course of  rebels  busily  engaged  in  plundering  the 
stranded  hull.  We  moved  forward  rapidly  like  an 
albatross,  and,  as  we  neared  them,  let  fly  the  whole 
of  our  starboard  division.  The  death-dealing  globes 
of  iron  sent  the  wood  work  of  the  steamer  flying  in 
showers  of  splinters,  and  the  rebs  ran  up  the  beach, 
their  coat-tails  flying  so  straight  behind  them  that  a 
person  could  have  played  dominoes  on  their  skirts. 
A  score  of  them  had  sought  shelter  in  the  steamer's 
hull,  and  as  the  thirty-two's  and  cannister  rattled 
among  the  wheels  and  smoke  stacks,  they  must  have 
thought  the  very  devil  himself  had  struck  them. 

We  luffed  up  to  the  wind,  and  gave  them  the  con- 
tents of  the  port-battery,  which  cleared  the  beach  of 
every  gray-back  and  horse,  and  then  we  threw  a  few 
sixty-four  pound  shells  into  the  shrubbery  to  have 
them  understand  that  we  knew  where  they  had  been 
hiding.  Having  thus  cleared  the  beach  and  woods, 
we  landed  in  the  cutter;  set  fire  to  the  wreck,  and 
the  next  day  nothing  was  left  but  the  wheels  and 
heavy  machinery.  We  then  beat  back  to  Bouge  In- 
let, cast  anchor  for  the  night,  and  the  next  day  cruised 
twenty  miles  off  shore,  then  returned  and  anchored 
at  the  South  channel,  off  Beaufort. 

There  were  two  ships,  a  barque,  and  a  few  small 
schooners,  penned  up  in  the  port,  waiting  an  opportu- 
nity to  run  through  the  fleet,  but  they  never  had  the 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       207 

courage  to  come  out.  The  ships  moved  down  to  the 
fort  and  lay  there,  drying  their  sails  every  pleasant 
day,  for  the  six  months  during  which  our  gun-boat, 
single-handed,  kept  them  blockaded,  and  when  the 
fort  and  town  surrendered,  they  became  lawful  prizes 
to  the  government. 

Every  day  we  cruised  down  the  land,  and  at  dark 
reefed  topsails,  and  anchored.  The  gun-boats  "  Bra- 
zelerio,"  and  "Amanda,"  joined  us,  and  a  sharp 
lookout  was  kept  all  along  the  coast,  with  nothing  on 
shore  to  greet  the  eye  but  dark  green  pines,  and  ridges 
of  sand.  At  one  time  it  was  bitter  cold  on  the  top- 
gallant cross-trees  for  the  men  on  the  watch,  and  at 
another,  in  the  same  week,  the  men  would  sweat  and 
lie  in  the  shade.  The  warm,  balmy.  Southern  air  was 
redolent  with  fragrance,  but  the  Nor '-westers  sweep- 
ing down  over  the  pine  woods,  laden  with  the  North- 
ern snows,  were  enough  to  chill  the  marrow  in  our 
bones. 

No  fires  were  allowed  to  be  kept  on  the  vessel,  ex- 
cept in  the  cook's  galley,  and  after  supper  even  that 
was  put  out,  yet  still  some  heat  remained,  and  the 
galley  proved  a  grand  place  for  the  sailors  to  creep 
into  of  a  bitter  cold  night.  Men  on  the  deck  look- 
outs kept  warm  by  walking  their  stations.  Those  in 
the  tops,  after  everything  was  quiet,  encased  them- 
selves in  the  bunts  of  the  staysails,  and  kept  their 
heads  out,  crying  their  lookout  every  half  hour. 

The  idlers  on  deck  sought  the  galley  one  cold, 
stormy  night,  to  pass  the  time  away  till  their  lookout 
came.     The  vessel  lay  at  anchor,  and  rolled  heavily. 


208       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

Twenty  men  were  packed  around  the  cook's  stove,  and 
three  lay  on  it,  when  some  evil-disposed  person  made 
j;hem  prisoners  by  tying  the  sliding  doors  together. 
Bad  air  and  tobacco  smoke  made  the  men  bestir 
themselves,  and  in  the  hard  jostling  that  ensued,  some 
unlucky  wight  capsized  a  barrel  of  slush.  Curses, 
not  loud  but  deep,  followed,  and  all  tried  to  emerge 
from  the  sad  plight  in  which  they  found  themselves. 
They  could  not  keep  their  feet  on  the  metalic  floor, 
for  grease  was  in  profusion.  The  vessel  rolled,  and 
kept  most  of  the  number  on  their  backs,  and  at  length, 
when  patience,  curses,  strength  and  slush  were  ex- 
hausted, the  doors  slid  back,  and  the  watch  on  deck 
warmed  themselves  with  laughter  to  see  the  men 
make  their  exit,  attired  in  their  new  uniforms  of  pot- 
skimmings  and  fat.  The  galley  was  molested  no 
more  by  night  watches ;  and  it  took  the  cooks  a  long 
time  with  sand  and  hot  water  for  assistants,  to 
cleanse  it. 

Every  day  we  cruised  off  shore,  and  at  dark 
anchored  under  the  land,  until,  wearied  with  the 
monotony,  we  all  longed  for  a  change,  and  the  men 
hinted  around  that  there  must  be  some  fresh  beef  on 
shore,  and  finally  obtained  liberty  to  make  up  a  forag- 
hig  expedition.  A  picked  crew  of  fifteen  men  with 
rifles  soon  landed.  Two  men  were  left  in  charge  of 
the  boat,  ready  for  an  emergency,  and  the  party 
struck  up  the  beach  into  the  woods. 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  reports  of  muskets  were 
heard,  and  we  soon  saw  our  blue  jackets  on  the  shore, 
with  a  number  of  rebel  cavalry  dashing  about  them. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       209 

Our. men  were  retreating  to  the  boat,  some  of  them 
fighting  as  they  came,  others  holding  on  like  sharks 
to  the  carcass  of  a  beeve  they  had  slaughtered.  Those 
who  dragged  the  carcass  to  the  boat  paid  little  heed  to 
the  combat  until  they  had  placed  the  meat  in  the  cut- 
ter, which  done,  they  jumped  back  to  assist  their  com- 
rades and  officers.  The  rebels,  confident  of  victory, 
tried  to  "  gobble  "  the  boat's  crew  at  one  swoop,  with- 
out killing  them. 

At  the  first  appearance  of  the  party,  the  Captain's 
gig  had  been  lowered,  and,  fully  armed,  we  pulled 
with  all  energy  for  the  beach.  The  rebs  had  taken 
some  of  our  men  as  prisoners,  yet  none  had  been 
killed.  We  dashed  the  gig  to  the  shore,  and  emptied 
the  rifles  into  the  horsemen.  They  dropped  their 
prisoners  and  fled  up  the  shore.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment the  guns  of  the  vessel  sent  the  solid  shot  over 
our  heads  and  into  the  woods.  The  rebs  opened  fire 
on  us  as  we  pulled  off  to  the  barque,  but  our  boats 
arrived  at  the  gunboat  with  all  the  men  safe. 

We  all  felt  pleased  with  tlic  result  of  the  expedi- 
tion. The  party  stated  that  tlic  rebs  did  not  want  to 
kill  them,  but  shouted  during  the  melee,  that,  "  an 
exchange  of  Yanks'  for  beef  was  a  fair  thing ;  "  and 
their  officer's  order  of  "  gobble  the  whole  boodle," 
showed  tliat  dead  men  were  not  wanted.  The  guns 
were  secured,  and  the  beef  cut  up,  and  highly  en- 
joyed by  all  hands,  but  the  Captain  never  allowed 
another  foraging  expedition.  We  weighed  anchor, 
and  that  night  ran  down  the  coast,  taking  observa- 
tions as  we  went  along. 


210      Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life, 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

Burning  of  the  "  York,"  of  Dublin  —  Fishing  —  Stewed  Gulls  for  the 
Officers" — Picket  Boats  —  Pitch  and  Toss  —  Worrying  the  Rebs 

—  The  "Jeff  Davis"  —  Our  Contrabands  —  Single  Stick  Exercise 

—  Plenty  to  Do  —  Man-of-War  Sports  —  Singing,  Dancing  and 
Spinning  Yarns  —  Mcintosh  promises  a  Yarn,  but  Dies  before  he 
can  Commence — The  Men  Awed  by  the  Sudden  Death  —  A 
Burial  at  Sea. 


i^^' E  kept  on  our  voyage  of  discovery,  and  the 
f^^^  next  afternoon  the  "Albatross"  joined  us. 
^'"^^  We  saw  a  wreck  on  the  beach,  and  learned 
that  it  was  the  ship  "  York,"  of  Dublin,  an  English 
vessel  that  had  been  driven  ashore  during  a  heavy 
storm.  She  had  parted  one  anchor,  and  had  two 
hundred  fathoms  of  cable  run  out  on  the  other,  yet 
she  laid  well  out  of  water  on  the  beach,  and  the  rebs 
were  stripping  her  as  fast  as  they  could.  Most  of 
the  rigging  was  taken  from  the  spars,  and  all  of  the 
sails  had  disappeared. 

We  sent  a  few  shot  into  the  woods,  and  then,  with 
the  boats  of  the  "  Albatross,"  reached  the  wreck  and 
set  fire  to  her  in  the  cabin  ;  we  then  ranged  over  the 
deck,  finding  not  a  single  article  of  value  but  the 
mate's  log-book.  We  next  overturned  a  can  of  tur- 
penthie  in  the  forecastle,  and  firing  it,  soon  had  both 
ends  of  the  doomed  ship  in  flames.  We  left  her  as 
soon  as  the  fire  had  gained  sufficient  headway  to  in- 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       211 

sure  her  destruction,  and  went  aboard  of  our  own  ves- 
sel. The  "  Albatross,"  as  soon  as  she  had  picked  up 
her  boats,  steamed  up  the  coast,  and  was  soon  shut 
from  our  view  by  the  darkness  that  was  fast  settling 
over  sea  and  land.  We  wore  ship  quite  near  to  the 
burning  hull,  and  discharged  two  broadsides  into  the 
flaming  wreck,  with  startling  effect.  The  tall  spars 
tottered,  and  fell  over  the  side ;  clouds  of  red  sparks 
were  floating  in  the  air,  firing  the  dry  underbrush  of 
the  shore,  and  the  shells,  as  they  exploded,  sent  the 
burning  pieces  in  all  directions.  We  lay  off  and  on 
until  midnight,  and  then  sailed  up  the  coast  to  the  en- 
trance of  Beaufort. 

On  pleasant  days  the  men  were  allowed  to  fish  from 
the  vessel,  and  hundreds  of  small  fry,  called  "  croak- 
ers," so  called  from  a  certain  noise  they  produced, 
afforded  us  a  great  amount  of  pleasure,  both  in  catch- 
ing and  eating.  We  also  caught  a  fish  shaped  like  a 
toad,  with  a  stout  tail,  but  this  repulsive  fish  was 
never  eaten.  Sea  birds  were  shot,  and  stews  made 
from  them  for  the  officers'  table. 

The  weather  was  mild  for  the  season ;  boats  were 
continually  being  pulled  about  among  the  little  fleet 
during  the  day,  and  were  on  picket  duty  every  night. 
On  one  occasion  they  passed  the  fort  at  midnight, 
and  planted  buoys  in  the  channel,  but  the  rebs 
pulled  them  up  the  next  day.  Some  nights  it  was 
extremely  hazardous  to  send  boats  on  picket,  yet  they 
went  with  muffled  oars,  and  well  provided  with  lan- 
terns, compass,  water,  and  food.  The  guns  of  the 
forts   were  occasionally   discharged   at   random,   to 


212       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

frighten  the  men  in  the  picket  boats.  I  was  engaged, 
a  greater  part  of  the  time,  in  the  agreeable  occupa- 
tion of  making  plans  and  sketches  of  the  fort,  har- 
bor, and  prominent  points  of  the  land.  The  vessels 
in  the  fleet  outside  numbered  five,  but  these  were  not 
sufficient  to  reduce  the  fort  of  forty  guns ;  it  was  only 
by  a  co-operation  of  land  and  naval  forces  that  its 
destruction  could  be  accomplished. 

Burnside  was  rapidly  sweeping  through  North 
Carolina,  and  heading  for  Beaufort.  Intelligence 
reached  us,  every  few  days,  of  his  glorious  and  steady 
advance,  yet  the  star-barred  rags  floated  before  our 
eyes  from  the  flag-stafl*  in  the  town,  and  the  high,  slim 
pole,  in  the  casements  at  Fort  Macon,  which  appeared 
like  one  large  saucer  overturned  on  another  still 
larger.  Their  guns  annoyed  us  every  day,  but  we 
all  lay  at  anchor  just  outside  of  the  range  of  their 
most  effective  piece  and  watched  with  satisfaction  its 
solid  shot  skip  and  bound  over  the  calm  water,  send- 
ing the  salt  spray  in  white  showers,  and  hurting  no 
one. 

The  pleasure  boat  "  Jeff"  Davis,"  with  a  number  of 
contrabands,  reached  our  fleet.  The  negroes  were 
distributed  among  the  vessels.  Two  of  them  came 
to  the  Gemsbok,  and  were  soon  doing  good  service 
in  the  cook's  galley.  They  were  large,  fat,  indolent 
men,  and,  at  first,  were  in  every  one's  way ;  but  they 
soon  had  new  ideas  infused  into  them,  and  worked 
as  they  had  never  worked  before;  one  of  them  ex- 
claimed when  his  patience  was  tried, — 

"  By  gol-ormity,  massa,  I  tort  de  old  massa  wor  a 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       213 

hard  boss,  an  I  had  a-nuff  to  do,  but  dis  am  a  big 
boat,  an  so  many  bosses, —  Oh,  wot  dis  poor  nigga 
gwine  fer  ter  do  ?  '' 

All  sorts  of  pranks  were  played  upon  them,  and  as 
they  were  fond  of  butting  and  fighting  in  their  own 
style,  they  were  satisfied  to  their  hearts'  desire,  by  a 
chap  from  New  York,  who  butted  them  till  they  roared 
with  pain. 

The  boat  "  Jeff  Davis  "  was  a  gay  looking  affair, 
and  the  best  pleasure  boat  in  Beaufort.  Every  night 
after  supper  the  crew  were  engaged  in  fencing  with 
single  sticks,  and  found  it  to  be  a  healthy  and  pleas- 
ant exercise ;  the  constant  play  of  eye,  hand,  and  body 
rendering  it  the  best  kind  of  recreation  to  relieve  the 
dull  routine  of  man-of-war  life.  It  was  hard  and 
quick  work  to  handle  the  large  guns,  and  perform  the 
duties  of  sail  trimmer ;  and  musket  drill  was  a  work 
a  sailor  always  dreads.  Our  men  proved  no  excep- 
tion to  this  general  rule  ;  they  were  heartily  wearied 
and  sick  of  it,  and  when  the  boson  piped  the  divis- 
ion to  exercise  at  small  arms,  out  of  twenty-five  men 
that  fired  at  a  barrel  in  the  water,  only  one  hit  it ; 
but  the  figure  of  a  man  hung  to  the  yard-arm  labeled 
"Uncle  Jeff,"  was  bored  through  by  balls  from  nearly 
every  rifle  and  revolver,  and  many  an  officer  took  de- 
light in  firing  at  it,  who  never  had  a  chance  to  pop 
away  at  a  live  rebel. 

We  tarred  and  painted  ship,  scoured  copper  and 
burnished  brass  work  during  fine  weather,  and  made 
"  sin-yarn  and  spun  it,"  on  rainy  days.  Work  of 
some  kind  was  daily  laid  out,  and,  as  there  were  many 


214       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

hands,  it  was  light  and  quickly  done.  Sword  mats 
and  fancy  work  were  next  given  to  us  ;  after  that  the 
"  spinning  jenny  "  was  in  motion  every  day,  and 
worked  up  all  the  old  rigging  and  rope  yarn.  The 
"  Rhode  Island  "  passed  us,  having  in  tow  a  splendid 
little  schooner,  the  "  Phantom,"  that  she  had  taken 
as  a  prize,  and  was  leading  by  the  nose  to  Hampton 
Roads. 

Every  fine  night  when  it  was  calm,  and  the  crew 
in  good  humor,  we  had  cotillon  and  contra  dances 
on  the  berth-deck.  Our  orchestra  consisted  of  two 
fiddles,  one  guitar,  with  banjos  in  profusion,  handled 
with  dexterous  fingers,  and  all  enjoyed  it  as  long  as 
cold  weather  lasted.  Shades  of  Warnell,  Gushing, 
Torpey,  and  Jack  Robinson,  where  are  you,  and  all 
the  careless,  dare-devil  lads  who  made  the  old  boat 
ring  ?  Come,  Grimes,  chime  in,  there  is  a  good  tune 
in  an  old  fiddle  yet.  The  songs  of  Yankee,  Irishmen, 
Englishmen,  and  Portuguese  are  pleasant  to  hear,  if 
sung  with  true  native  energy  and  feeling.  Every 
kind  of  song  was  sung ;  rough  jokes  played ;  feats 
of  strength,  quickness,  and  elasticity  displayed ;  jig 
dancers  footed  it  out  by  the  hour ;  cards,  dominoes, 
and  tee-totums,  came  in  play  ;  crack-a-loo  and  gam- 
bling were  carried  on  slily,  and  the  men  tried  every 
way  to  kill  time. 

Tlie  top-gallant  forecastle  was  the  favorite  place 
to  tell  tales  of  love,  wreck,  and  the  joys  and  perils 
of  a  sailors'  life.  There  the  narrator,  squatted  be- 
tween the  dead-eyes  of  the  fore  stay,  held  forth  to  his 
enraptured  audience.     One  fine  evening  the  place 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       215 

was  occupied  by  Mcintosh,. a  fine  looking  old  sailor, 
and,  as  he  sat  whiffing  his  pipe,  the  men  congregated 
about  him,  begged  for  a  yarn.  "  Well,  lads,  let  me 
finish  my  smoke,  and  then  I  '11  spin  you  a  twister 
about  my  going  off.'^  Having  said  this  the  smoker 
closed  his  eyes  and  settled  quietly  back  in  the  bend 
of  the  stay,  his  face  calm  and  pleasant,  and  the  blue 
cloud  of  tobacco  smoke  rising  to  the  black  cap  rib- 
bon over  his  left  eye.  The  sprawled  out  crowd  wait- 
ed some  few  minutes,  and,  as  he  made  no  motion, 
neither  opened  his  eyes  nor  showed  any  signs  of 
spinning  his  yarn,  one  of  the  men  standing  by  tap- 
ped him  on  the  shoulder  with  a  "  Heave  ahead  my 
hearty."  Still  no  motion.  They  took  his  hand  ;  it 
was  a  dead  man's  hand ;  the  spirit  of  the  sailor  had 
fled  to  a  peaceful  haven.  Mcintosh  had  spun  his 
last  yarn,  and  enjoyed  the  last  pipe  of  tobacco  in  this 
life.  The  group  were  awed  by  this  sudden  touch  of 
death ;  with  solemn  faces  the  men  carried  the  inani- 
mate form  aft  to  the  arm-chest,  laid  it  there,  and  the 
surgeon,  with  his  colleague,  pronounced  poor  Mac 
dead,  from  disease  of  tlie  heart.  The  Stars  and 
Stripes  were  folded  over  his  cold  breast,  and  the  crew 
retired  to  their  hammocks  earlier  than  usual.  The 
next  morning  the  barque  was  got  under  way,  and 
when  the  land  had  sunk  from  view,  and  the  lead  had 
struck  thirty  fathoms,  the  topsail  was  laid  to  the 
mast,  and  an  ocean  burial  scene  began.  It  was  a 
solemn  sight  and  sound,  sober  faces  and  deep  toned 
words  marked  the  hour.  We  took  a  last  look  at  our 
shipmate ;  the  plank  was  tilted  on  the  rail  j  the  flag 


216       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailot's  Life, 

withdrawn,  and,  as  the  words,  "  We  now  commit 
this  body  to  the  deep  "  were  pronounced,  the  corpse, 
heavily  weighted  with  solid  shot,  and  encased  in  can- 
vas, passed  over  the  vessel's  side,  and  disappeared  in 
the  bosom  of  the  water,  to  be  seen  no  more  by  mortal 
eyes- 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life,      217 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

My  Narrow  Escape  —  Rough  Weather  —  Up  Anchors  and  Off — 
Hampton  Roads  Again  —  The  Burnside  Fleet  —  The  Old  "  Brandy- 
wine  "  —  Motley  Array  of  Shipping  —  Liberty  Men  lying  around 
Loose  —  A  Gala  Day — Great  Display  of  Bunting  —  A  Perilous 
Task—  Strategic  Feat  of  the  "  Nashville  "  —  An  Old  Sailor  Tells 
How  it  was  Done  —  The  "  Nashville  "  Tries  it  Again  —  Off  She 
Goes  —  An  Excited  Captain. 


f  HE  day  after  the  ocean  burial  the  barque  was 
riding  out  a  gale  of  wind,  lying  at  anchor. 
The  boat  "Jeff  Davis,"  was  astern,  filled 
with  water,  and  I  was  sent,  with  others,  to  bail  it 
out.  It  was  a  perilous  duty,  but  quickly  done,  and 
the  men  returned  to  the  vessel  in  safety.  Being  the 
last  to  ascend  the  ladder,  I  missed  my  hold  and  fell 
overboard.  The  counter  of  the  vessel,  as  her  stern 
settled  into  the  sea,  struck  the  top  of  my  head  and 
confused  me,  but  as  I  looked  through  the  green 
water  above,  I  saw  a  rope  at  hand.  I  grasped  it, 
holding  on  with  a  determination  made  strong  by  the 
thought  that  it  was  my  last  chance,  and  was  safely 
drawn  on  board.  The  waves  ran  high,  and  my  escape 
was  looked  upon  as  a  miracle,  as  no  boat  could  have 
saved  me.  The  next  day,  as  soon  as  the  gale  abated, 
we  weighed  anchor,  and,  under  top-gallant  sails  and 
topsails,  cut  through  the  long  rolling  seas,  bound 
again  for  Hampton  Roads. 


218       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

Our  passage  was  short ;  the  wind  had  become 
tired  of  blowing  a  gale,  and  had  settled  itself  down 
into  a  good  and  wholesome  breeze.  As  we  swept  like 
a  racer  along  the  sandy  shores  of  Cape  Henry,  we  saw 
an  immense  fleet  lying  at  anchor  in  the  Roads.  It 
was  the  armada  of  Burnside.  Every  kind  of  craft 
composed  it ;  steamers  and  sailing  vessels  ;  tugs  and 
barges  ;  old  ferry  boats,  and  worn-out  propellers,  all 
loaded  with  soldiers  who  were  bound  to  put  the  rebels 
through,  in  North  Carolina.  The  bad  passage,  and 
loss  of  some  of  these  old  boats  is  still  fresh  in  many 
memories  ;  also  the  long  storm  and  pounding  those 
transports  had  to  encounter  in  passing  Hatteras,  and 
crossing  the  swash  of  the  Sound. 

We  kept  on  our  way  through  the  line  of  vessels  and 
well  up  the  Roads,  and  at  length  anchored  off  the 
steamboat  wharf,  and  near  the  old  Brandywine.  We 
were  soon  obliged  to  go  to  that  vessel  for  stores,  and 
I  had  a  fine  chance  to  study  the  build  of  the  veteran 
frigate,  whose  history  is  so  honorably  identified  with 
the  American  Navy.  The  feet  of  the  gallant  and 
patriotic  Lafayette,  and  many  other  illustrious  men, 
who  have  passed  from  this  earthly  stage  of  action, 
once  walked  her  oaken  deck.  The  old  hooks,  on 
which  the  seamen  once  swung  their  hammocks,  were 
w^orn  smooth  and  sharp  by  time  and  use.  The  square, 
bulging  stern,  and  full,  blunt  bows  were  in  keeping 
with  her  upper  works ;  and  the  curious  old  gilding 
and  carving  had  been  smothered  in  black  paint.  We 
procured  ratling  stuff,  cordage,  and  some  stores  from 
her,  and  then  pulled  back  to  our  vessel.     I  made  the 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life*       219 

gig  fast  to  the  ladder  of  the  swinging  boom,  and  ran 
nimbly  in  on  the  slender  spar,  to  get  my  supper  as 
the  boson's  pipes  were  sounding. 

The  supper  of  tea,  cheese,  pork,  and  hard  bread 
was  soon  put  out  of  sight,  and  we  tumbled  to  the  up- 
per deck  to  have  a  quiet  smoke,  and  look  at  the  many 
vessels  that  lay  at  anchor.  The  whole  bay  was  packed 
with  Union  forces,  flags  were  flying  from  every  gaff 
and  truck  ;  the  bands  in  the  fortress  were  playing  mar- 
tial airs,  and  the  long,  white  river  steamers  were  blow- 
ing off  their  steam.  When  the  sunset  gun  from  the 
shore  belched  out  its  rude  call,  down  fluttered  the 
bunting,  and  quietness  settled  over  the  fleet,  only  to 
be  broken  before  eight  bells,  by  a  hum  of  voices  that 
echoed  to  the  opposite  shore.  The  bells  of  the  frig- 
ates and  gunboats  clanged  out  the  half  hours,  and 
finally  silence  reigned  supreme ;  but  hundreds  of 
eyes  were  on  the  lookout. 

At  break  of  day  the  noise  of  washing  the  decks 
aroused  all  sleepers.  It  was  a  lovely  day,  and  the 
mild,  southerly  wind  was  blowing  across  the  bay 
with  a  soothing  effect.  The  muddy  tide  ran  by  at  a 
rapid  pace,  and  the  boats  were  swinging  at  the  booms. 
The  port-watch  asked  the  Captain  for  a  day's  liberty, 
and,  it  being  given  them,  forty  of  the  watch  were 
soon  dressed  and  in  the  boats,  bound  for  the  shore. 
The  men  were  light-hearted,  with  the  prospect  of  fun 
ahead,  and  as  soon  as  the  boat  struck  the  beach, 
jumped  out  and  ran  to  the  negroes'  shanties,  where 
whiskey  abounded.  We  pulled  the  boats  back  to  our 
vessel,  and  at  dark  went  ashore  with  an  officer  after 


220       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

the  liberty  men.  We  found  most  of  them  waiting 
for  us  on  the  beach,  but  a  number  were  scattered  in 
and  around  the  buildings,  and  I  was  sent  to  drum  up 
the  backward.  I  found  them  after  a  long  and  careful 
search,  very  busy  in  clearing  out  a  negro  shanty,- 
whose  rightful  occupant  would  not  give  them  any 
more  supper  or  dHnk.  Soldiers,  as  they  passed  by, 
gave  little  heed  to  our  men,  who,  after  gutting  the 
rooms,  were  satisfied,  and  staggered  slowly  down  to 
the  boats. 

As  we  were  pulling  off  with  the  men,  our  boat  be- 
ing deep  in  the  water,  a  large  sturgeon  leaped  from 
the  water  and  fell  into  the  boat.  The  fish  was  heavy, 
and  fell  on  the  recumbent  men,  who  jumped  up  and 
declared  that  somebody  had  hit  them,  and  inquired 
who  it  was.  Seeing  that  a  fish  was  the  offender,  one 
of  them  seized  it  by  the  tail  and  waved  it  over  the 
drowsy  heads  of  their  companions. 

"  Miss  Gemsbok,  ahoy  ;  we  're  coming.'*  "  The 
old  man  will  fix  us  off  for  coming  aboard  this  way." 
"  Hold  up  your  head.  Bill,  the  old  covey  is  looking 
at  yer."  "  Oh,  we  won't  get  any  more  of  liberty. 
Say,  Ned,  let  me  fill  your  place  in  the  gig,  you  've  got 
enough  of  going  ashore."  These  and  similar  remarks 
were  made  as  we  approached  the  vessel.  The  deep 
laden  cutter  came  alongside,  and,  as  the  Captain 
looked  down,  he  saw  three  men  who  could  not  rise 
on  their  feet,  and  he  thought  they  might  as  well 
come  up  in  good  style.  '*  Boson's  mate,"  he  cried, 
"  get  up  a  strap  and  tackle  on  the  main  yard,  and 
hoist  those  men  up  from  the  boat.*'     This  order 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       221 

was  quickly  obeyed,  and  the  laughing  men  on  deck 
hoisted  their  poor  shipmates  nearly  to  the  yard.  In 
the  morning  they  were  all  called  to  the  deck,  and  the 
following  dialogue  ensued  ; 

"  Well,  my  men,"  said  the  Captain,  "  you  were 
pretty  drunk  when  you  came  aboard,  and  did  not  be- 
have well  at  all." 

"  Yes  sir,  we  were  a  little  over  the  bay." 

"  What  fools  you  were  to  get  drunk  ;  you  will  get 
no  more  liberty  while  you  are  on  this  vessel." 

"  Well,  sir,  we  must  stay  content,  and  be  patient 
until  our  time  comes  for  discharge."   . 

"  Discharge  you  want,  do  you  ?  Oh,  now  you 
want  to  leave  me  and  the  good  ship.  Now,  mind  me, 
do  your  duty,  and  don't  think  of  a  discharge  ;  my 
men  are  my  children,  if  they  do  get  drunk.  Pipe 
down.  Boson." 

The  men  returned  to  their  duty,  and  the  Captain 
to  his  pipe.  He  loved  the  crew  at  heart,  but  he 
would  swear  at  them  like  a  pirate,  if  they  did  not 
work  the  smartest  of  any  in  the  harbor.  Shortly 
after  this,  the  starboard  watch  applied  for  liberty,  but 
were  abruptly  refused,  the  Captain  giving  as  a  reason 
that  his  men  could  not  keep  from  liquor  when  ashore. 
It  was  thus  that  the  ill  conduct  of  a  few  deprived  the 
men  of  the  privileges  they  might  have  enjoyed,  for 
no  more  liberty  was  given  to  us  on  that  cruise. 

As  I  had  a  place  in  the  gig,  I  was  ashore  nearly 
every  day  with  the  Captain,  yet  saw  but  little  to 
amuse  me.  Large  guns,  soldiers,  young  naval  offi- 
cers, and  negroes  were  the  most  prominent  objects 


222       Seve7t  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

that  greeted  our  eyes.  There  were  two  tailors  and 
one  shoemaker  in  the  place,  and  they  coined  money 
at  their  trades,  their  little  shops  being  full  of  arti- 
cles to  be  repaired,  for  which  they  charged  fabulous 
prices. 

Wo  had  a  gala  day  in  Hampton  Roads.  The  Pres- 
ident and  suite  were  at  the  Fortress.  Guns  thun- 
dered salutes,  and  flags  streamed  from  every  point. 
The  afternoon  was  foggy  and  damp,  and  the  flags 
gathered  the  moisture  and  hung  limp  and  still  from 
the  halliards.  At  sunset  the  fog  and  clouds  rolled 
away,  and  the  sun's  broad  disc  settled  below  the  west- 
ern hills,  amid  the  salvos  of  artillery  and  rolling  of 
drums.  The  flags  on  every  vessel  were  to  be  on  deck 
at  the  same  time.  English,  French,  and  Brazilian 
gun-boats  were  near  us,  and,  many  vessels  of  our 
fleet,  the  Minnesota  included,  had  the  French  tri-color 
flying  at  the  fore,  out  of  respect  to  France,  but  none 
were  given  to  the  breeze  in  deference  to  the  English. 

Amid  the  crash  of  heavy  guns,  and  roll  of  snare 
drums,  the  piping  of  whistles,  and  motions  of  officers, 
the  large  display  of  flags  came  sliding  to  the  deck ; 
all  but  the  large  tri-color  at  our  fore,  that  caught  up- 
on the  topsail  brace,  and  would  not  come  down.  Who 
was  the  man  to  run  out  on  the  slippery  yards,  slide 
down  the  brace,  and  bring  that  entangled  flag  to  the 
rail.  No  one  stirred  to  take  down  the  flag.  Seeing 
this,  the  Captain  turned  to  me  and  silently  pointed  to 
the  flag.  Up  the  rigging  I  jumped,  and,  scorning 
foot  ropes,  ran  out  on  the  yard,  and  slid  down  the 
wet,  slippery  rope,  conscious  that  a  false  step  or  motioa 


C  C   <  c  C   ( 


t "       t 

t 
:  c  <        c 


t'  «^  .        ,  < 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life,       223 

would  be  my  instant  death.  Every  eye,  far  and  near, 
saw  a  lithe  form  hanging  over  the  angry  tide  on  the 
brace  one  moment,  and  the  next  safe  on  the  rail,  with 
the  colors.  When  I  stepped  on  the  deck,  officers  and 
men  grasped  my  hand,  and  nearly  overwhelmed  me 
with  praise,  and  witli  hearty  slaps  on  the  back,  mani- 
fested their  congratulations.  The  Captain  only  said, 
"  Ned,  I  thank  you,"  and  resumed  pacing  the  deck. 
I  felt  a  little  proud  of  my  daring,  and  having  the 
pleasure  of  out-doing  the  fore-top  men,  who  were 
always  our  rivals  in  making  or  furling  sail.  I  knew 
I  could  do  it ;  the  others  dare  not  try.  I  had  been 
hand-over-hand  from  flying  jib-boom  end  to  the  spank- 
er-gaiF  many. a  time,  and  was  the  only  one  that  could 
clear  a  topsail  reef  tackle  when  the  sail  was  full. 
During  my  term  of  service,  I  had  a  contempt  for 
danger,  that  amounted  nearly  to  rashness.  I  often 
crossed  the  royal  yards,  when  the  yard  came  with  a 
bang  on  the  slender  mast,  and  my  hands  were  so  numb 
and  cold  that  T  could  hardly  hold  on ;  but  it  was  to 
be  done,  if  T  were  dashed  to  atoms  on  the  pitch-pine 
deck.  Everything  had  to  be  done  in  apple-pie  order, 
and  in  perfect  time,  and  if  a  man  was  freezing  to 
death,  he  must  wait  for  the  word  to  reach  his  ears.  I 
have  seen  men  clinging  to  the  yards,  cry,  and  swear 
with  rage  at  the  cold  weather,  and  the  delay  of  their 
more  backward  neighbors,  whose  laziness,  or  tardiness 
might  cause  them  to  freeze  before  they  could  make  the 
gasket  fast  and  lay  down.  Sometimes  the  sails  were 
soft  and  dry,  and  at  other  times  as  stiff  and  hard  as 
sheet  iron.    Tlie  men  were  well  enough,  and  cheerful 


224       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

in  warm  weather,  but  the  dead  of  winter  was,  as  it 
always  is,  a  season  of  misery  for  the  sailor. 

Our  vessel  had  been  furnished  with  stores,  and 
everything  that  was  needed,  and  one  clear,  bright 
morning  we  went  bounding  down  the  coast.  As  we 
came  off  our  old  station  we  saw  but  one  steamer 
there,  and  she  was  under  full  steam,  running  up  and 
down  the  bay.  The  Captain  reported  the  "  Nashville  " 
in  the  harbor,  having  run  by  the  "  State  of  Georgia" 
in  a  masterly  manner.  Our  vessel  was  anchored  a 
mile  and  a  half  from  the  fort,  and  springs  put  on 
the  cable,  ready  for  action  at  a  moment's  call.  We 
soon  went  in  the  Captain's  gig  to  learn  particulars, 
the  "  State  of  Georgia  "  having  at  last  come  to  an 
anchor  in  the  North  channel.  I  made  inquiry  of  the 
sergeant  of  marines,  and  he  gave  me  an  account  as 
follows :  — 

"  Well,  Ned,  it  was  the  cutest  game  that  I  have  seen 
played  in  these  diggings.  D'  ye  see,  we  lay  here  day 
before  yesterday,  with  half  steam  up,  watching  the 
old  ballyhoos  behind  the  fort,  when  the  lookout  sings, 
'  Steamer  coming  from  the  South,  sir.'  Well,  we 
thought  it  was  the  '  Quaker  City,'  or  some  of  the 
blockaders  running  up  to  take  the  letter-bag  home, 
and  only  had  our  guns  and  steam  as  usual,  when  on 
comes  the  reb,  straight  for  us,  and  speaks  us.  The  crew 
were  dressed  in  blue,  and  the  Yankee  flag  was  flying 
from  the  spanker-gaff.  She  hailed  us  as  she  dashed 
by,  and  our  old  man  answered  his  hail,  and  inquired 
what  steamer  it  was.  A  voice  full  of  exultation  an- 
swered, 'The  Confederate  steamer  Nashville,  damn 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       225 

you,'  and  down  came  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  and  the 
star-barred  rag  of  the  rebs  took  its  place.  God,  how 
our  old  man  jumped  to  the  guns.  The  rifled  cannon 
was  soon  at  work  and  sent  a  ball  to  the  stern  of  the 
flying  reb,  who  then  run  up  under  the  shelter  of  the 
fort,  just  as  slick  as  a  whistle.  We  fired  the  tompion 
out  of  the  gun,  we  were  so  confused,  but  it  was  no 
use,  there  she  is  and  here  we  are  ;  I  hope  we  '11  get  a 
peg  at  her ;  but  she  done  it  so  neat  and  pretty  that  I 
glory  in  her  spunk." 

Such  was  his  account,  and  the  lucky  reb  was  safe 
behind  the  guns  of  Fort  Macon.  Our  duty  was  to 
watch  the  port,  and  we  had  our  hands  full.  Day 
after  day  we  lay  there  at  anchor,  keeping  sharp  eyes 
on  the  "Nashville."  The  '*  Cambridge"  came  and 
joined  us,  and  the  "  State  of  Georgia  "  went  to  Hamp- 
ton Roads. 

The  dog-vanes  were  not  stiller  than  our  crew,  as 
night  shut  down.  The  moon  would  not  rise  until 
nine  o'clock  that  night ;  it  was  as  calm  as  death  all 
around ;  we  had  springs  on  the  cables,  but  they  did 
us  but  little  good.  The  "  Cambridge  "  was  steaming 
about  the  channel,  making  but  little  noise  ;  the  water 
was  as  smooth  as  marble ;  the  night  was  so  dark  that 
an  object  could  not  be  seen  more  than  a  hundred 
yards,  and  every  man  was  at  his  gun  or  post. 

I  was  leaning  against  the  mizzen  rigging,  and  peer- 
ing ofi"  into  the  darkness,  when  I  saw  a  vessel  near- 
ing  our  stern  :  was  it  the  "  Cambridge  "  or  the  "  Nash- 
ville ?  "  A  low,  earnest,  and  hurried  whisper  ran  over 
our  ship,  and  the  spring  on  the  cable  was  tautened, 


226       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailors  Life, 

and  guns  pointed  sharp  aft.  On  came  the  steamer, 
feeling  her  way  down  the  South  channel.  Our  Cap- 
tain could  restrain  himself  no  longer,  but  shouted, — 

"  Fire,  fire,  and  load  as  fast  as  you  can.  Musket- 
eers, pour  a  volley  into  that  fellow." 

As  the  flash  of  our  large  guns  threw  a  glare  of  red 
light  about  us,  we  saw  the  "  Nashville  "  right  off  our 
port-quarter,  about  a  good  stone's  throw  from  the 
muzzles  of  our  guns. 

"  Keep  cool,  men  ;  fire  away  ;  fire  anything,  only 
cripple  her.  Five  hundred  dollars  to  the  man  that 
puts  a  shell  into  her  engines.  Fire  away ;  quick, 
men,  she  is  getting  away  from  us  !  " 

How  the  men  jumped  and  loaded  those  heavy  guns. 
Three  pieces  were  brought  to  bear  on  the  fast  flying 
vessel,  and  they  were  soon  heated.  With  a  full  head 
of  steam  on,  and  fire  flashing  from  her  sides,  with  the 
speed  of  a  locomotive,  the  "  Nashville  "  at  length 
passed  us  and  was  clear  again.  We  had  thrown  shot, 
shell,  and  cannister  at  her  in  thirty-five  rounds  of 
firing,  and  when  it  was'  known 'that  she  had  eluded 
us,  such  an  excited  band  of  men  as  flooded  our  spar 
deck,  was  never  before  seen. 

"  Blast  a  boat  that  don't  carry  steam.'* 

"  Curse  this  calm,  the  lazy  moon,  and  that  poking 
*  Cambridge.'  " 

"  Oh,  oh,  my  God,"  cried  our  Captain,  tearing  the 
cap  from  his  head,  and  jumping  upon  it,  "  men,  it 
was  not  my  fault.  No,  God,  no;  I  '11  have  a  steamer. 
Where  in  the  devil  is  that  lazy '  Cambridge  ? '  Here 
she  comes.  What  will  the  department  say  to  this  ?  " 
and  he  paced  up  and  down  the  deck  in  a  rage. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.       227 

At  this  moment  the  "  Cambridge  "  came  rushing 
over  the  calm,  smooth  water.  The  moon  had  just 
broken  through  the  black  robe  of  night,  and  imparted 
a  wild,  sombre  aspect  to  the  hurried  scene.  The 
Captain  of  the  "  Cambridge  "  had  not  seen  the  "  Nash- 
ville," and  when  our  Captain  shouted,"  She  has  gone 
down  the  South  channel.  Go  after  her.  I  '11  report 
you,"  and  many  other  hasty  sentences,  she  imme- 
diately put  on  all  steam,  and  went  in  pursuit,  but 
failing  to  find  her  in  the  light  fog,  returned  to  her 
anchorage.  Our  men  spent  the  night  in  walking  the 
gun  deck,  cursing  the  "  Cambridge,"  but  giving  the 
"  Nashville  "  credit  for  being  a  swift  and  bold  boat. 

It  is  well  known  what  numerous  jokes  were  crack- 
ed at  our  expense  by  the  people  of  the  North,  when 
the  tidings  reached  them ;  but  the  Naval  Board 
cleared  us  from  all  blame,  being  assured  that  if  we 
had  had  a  steamer  that  night,  instead  of  a  sailing 
vessel,  we  should  have  taken  the  "  Nashville,"  or 
sunk  her.  Not  long  after  this,  our  Captain  was  in 
command  of  a  fast,  steam  gunboat,  and  done  most 
active  and  good  service  on  the  Carolina  coast.  Too 
well  do  the  stubborn  rebels  remember  the  "  Niphon," 
"Flambeau,"  "Albatross,"  "Iron  Age,"  and  many 
other  little  steamers  whose  guns  knocked  the  block- 
ade runners  into  splinters  as  they  lay  ashore.  The 
day  after  the  "  Nashville's  "  escape,  the  "  Chippewa," 
one  of  the  new  two-masted  gunboats,  came  and  joined 
us,  but  she  was  just  one  day  too  late  for  the  fair, 
which  put  her  captain  in  bad  humor. 


228       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life, 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

Hotel  Burning —  Our  Grasp  Tightens  —  The  Rebels  Busy —  Sailors 
Camping  out  —  Attack  on  Fort  Macon  —  The  Army  Steadily  Ad- 
vancing—  The  "Daylight"  —  A  Rather  Ticklish  Position  — 
Dodging  the  Balls  —  The  Battle  and  the  Storm  —  Sharp  Practice 
—  The  Contest  Close,  Hot,  and  Heavy  —  Victory  —  Capture  of 
Beaufort— A  Jolly  Time  — A  Visit  to  the  Fort  — Talk  with  a 
Secesh  Soldier — Luxuries — Manning  the  Prize  Ships — Off  for 
Baltimore. 

HErebels  were  now  very  busy  at  work,  pulling 
down  and  burning  the  large  buildings  that 
stood  in  the  range  of  their  guns.  We  went 
every  night  on  picket  in  the  boats,  and  one  time  we* 
landed  on  the  beach  and  heard  the  conversation  of 
two  sentinels,  as  we  wormed  ourselves  on  the  ground, 
and  hardly  taking  a  long  breath.  If  they  had  only 
flashed  a  blue  light  or  fired  a  rocket,  they  would  have 
discovered  us,  but  we  always  came  off  to  the  ship 
without  loss  or  injury. 

The  large  and  commodious  hotel,  containing  eighty 
rooms,  a  capital  watering  place  establishment,  was 
set  on  fire  by  these  rebs,  and  leveled  to  the  ground. 
Every  night  witnessed  a  conflagration,  and  total  loss 
of  their  own  property,  for  the  army,  under  General 
Parks,  was  fast  advancing  upon  them.  Town  after 
town  was  taken,  and  North  Carolina  rebels  were  hur- 
rying to  Wilmington. 

One  fine  day  we  looked  into  the  town  of  Beaufort, 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof's  Life.       229 

and  saw  the  flag  of  the  Union  flying  from  a  conspicu- 
ous place,  but  the  rebel  rag  still  streamed  from  Ma- 
con's tall  staff,  and  the  ships  in  the  harbor  flew  the 
English  flag.  We  knew  at  once  that  the  army  had 
taken  the  town  and  Morehead  city,  withovit  firing  a 
gun  ;  but  Macon  would  fight  it  out,  as  it  was  situated 
on  a  long  point  of  land,  and  would  be  obliged  to  yield 
only  by  a  combined  action  on  land  and  sea. 

The  land  forces  immediately  crossed  the  inlet,  and  as 
soon  as  they  could,  began  to  work  their  long  siege  guns 
upon  the  fort.  Our  soldiers  had  two  heavy  batteries 
planted  behind  the  sand  hills,  and,havingoncegotthe 
range  and  elevation  of  their  pieces,  kept  up  a  con- 
tinual storm  of  shot  and  shell  upon  the  doomed  fort. 
The  rebels  answered  with  their  heaviest  guns,  and 
their  shot  threw  the  white,  dry  sand,  in  wide  spirts, 
high  in  the  air,  but  seldom  harmed  the  Union  troops, 
who  steadily  shelled  the  low  fort,  night  and  day.  The 
"Maggie,"  a  little  steamer  that  followed  the  army, 
being  hard  and  fast  ashore  near  the  guns,  the  crew 
took  their  effects  and  tented  out  on  the  beach,  and, 
after  a  time,  towed  their  steamer  out  of  the  rebels' 
reach  and  abandoned  her. 

We  communicated  with  the  shore,  and  soon  had 
the  leading  officers  of  the  troops  on  board  of  the  ves- 
sels. They  said  the  rebels  cared  little  about  the  town, 
but  fought  well  behind  their  forts,  and  the  entrench- 
ments they  had  hurriedly  thrown  up,  and  it  was  there- 
fore determined  that  the  land  and  naval  forces  should 
unite  in  a  grand  attack  on  the  fort,  which,  it  was 
thought,  by  being  thus  between  two  cross  fires  must 


230       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

soon  surrender.  We  landed  the  party  below  the  bat- 
teries, and  had  a  good  opportunity  to  see  the  soldiers 
work  the  siege  guns,  and  dodge  the  rebel  shells. 
The  "  Cambridge  "  then  left  us,  and  the  fleet  consisted, 
of  the  "  Ciiippewa,"  "  Daylight,"  "  Gemsbok,"  and 
"State  of  Georgia."  The  "Albatross"  joined  us 
after  the  fort  had  hauled  down  its  colors  and  sur- 
rendered to  General  Parks. 

1  passed  my  time  on  board  drawing  sketches  of  the 
vessels  and  fort,  and,  as  soon  as  they  were  finished 
and  colored,  sold  them  for  half  a  dollar  apiece,  and 
in  this  way  earned  plenty  of  change  to  spend  for  fresh 
food  when  we  anchored  in  the  harbor  of  Beaufort. 
Every  day  the  land  forces  were  at  it,  banging  at  each 
other ;  and  at  night  the  rush  and  roar  of  mortar 
shell,  with  their  red  fire  streaming  amid  the  darkness, 
made  us  impatient  to  enter  into  the  final  combat. 

The  army,  on  the  long  neck  of  land,  slowly  but 
surely  advanced  nearer  the  fort,  and  having  attained 
a  commanding  position,  opened  a  terrible  cannonade 
upon  the  rebels.  At  the  same  time  the  signal  for 
action  flew  from  the  senior  commander's  ship,  and  all 
was  activity.  The  wind  was  blowing  a  perfect  gale, 
and  under  double-reefed  topsail  we  ran  straight  for 
the  fort  and  came  to  anchor  just  outside  of  the  bar. 
The  Captain  was  willing  to  sail  right  into  the  harbor, 
and  as  the  senior  ofiicers'  ship  swept  around  our  stern 
lie  shouted, — 

"  Put  me  in  nearer  to  the  rebels  ;  my  crew  are  full 
of  fight,  we  want  to  wipe  out  the  stain  upon  us." 

"  No ;  you  are  now  near  enough  to  be  stove  all  to 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       231 

pieces,  and  sunk  in  five  minutes,"  was  the  reply,  and 
the  three  steamers  began  to  circle  around  us,  firing 
their  starboard  batteries  directly  into  the  fort,  to  the 
great  discomfiture  of  the  inmates. 

We  were  so  near  that  we  could  plainly  see  the  reb- 
els as  they  jumped  up  and  loaded  their  guns.  The 
wind  was  at  the  westward,  cold  and  strong  ;  we  opened 
fire  on  the  fort,  and  the  loaders  and  spongers  stripped 
to  the  waist,  and  worked  like  men.  We  soon  found 
that  our  guns  threw  their  balls  beyond  the  fort  into 
the  marsh,  and  town  of  Beaufort ;  we,  therefere,  took 
the  precaution  to  obtain  an  exact  range  with  five- 
second  shell,  and  soon  had  a  terrible  fire  pouring  into 
the  fort. 

The  "  Daylight "  had  a  shot  put  through  her  side, 
and  after  it  had  let  daylight  into  the  ward  room,  and 
clerk's  berth,  took  the  fireman's  arm  off,  and  finally 
lodged  in  the  Captain's  desk  ;  this  shot  was  sent  home 
by  the  Captain  as  a  trophy.  We  riddled  the  ensign  of 
the  "  State  of  Georgia  "  by  a  premature  discharge, 
and  could  hardly  keep  our  feet  on  deck,  the  vessel 
rolled  and  pitched  so  heavily.  We  endeavored  with 
the  twenty  pound  rifle  to  cut  away  the  rebel  flag-staff 
with  a  boot-leg  shell,  but,  after  trying  many  times, 
gave  it  up,  and  directed  our  attention  to  the  sixty- 
four  pounder  that  could  plant  shell  fair  in  the  case- 
mate at  every  discharge. 

All  this  time  the  wind  howled  like  a  demon,  and 
the  red-hot  shot  and  bursting  shell  were  passing  over 
our  heads  and  among  the  rigging.  Our  laying  at  an-, 
chor,  a  perfect  floating  target,  proved  to  be  our  sal- 


232       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

vation.  The  shot  and  shell  struck  not  lower  than 
eight  feet  above  the  rail  of  our  vessel.  The  masts 
were  not  touched,  but  the  heavy  topmast,  backstays, 
main-braces,  topsail-halliards,  and  running  rigging 
were  shot  away.  My  situation  as  sail  trimmer  was 
perilous  in  the  extreme  ;  I  expected  every  minute  to 
have  a  shell  cut  me  in  two,  as  I  laid  on  the  yards  pas- 
sing and  securing  preventer  braces,  but  no  harm  came 
to  myself,  nor  to  any  of  the  crew.  One  of  the  foretop 
men  placed  his  hand  on  the  topsail-yard,  and  a  shot 
struck  near  his  hand,  chipped  the  yard  in  its  passage, 
and  bounded  away  to  its  last  rest  in  the  heaving  sea. 
He  came  on  deck  in  the  wink  of  an  eye,  declaring 
that  the  devil  shouted  in  his  ear,  "  go  down,"  and  he 
obeyed  him. 

Still  the  rebels  fired  steadily  and  fast.  Three  guns 
in  the  eastern  angle  of  the  fort  were  doing  their  best 
to  sink  us,  but  our  crew,  knowing  that  the  rebs  could 
not  depress  the  muzzles  of  their  guns  any  more,  sent 
up  cheers  of  victory,  and  poured  their  steady  fire 
upon  the  doomed  fort.  Our  masts  were  rocking  and 
shaking  with  the  violence  of  w^nd,  sea,  and  the  recoil 
of  the  heavy  guns.  The  Captain  wanted  to  fight  un- 
til night,  but  the  flag  officer  signalized  us  to  haul  ofif 
and  repair  our  shattered  rigging.  As  the  steamers 
made  their  last  circle  around  us,  the  men  on  board 
of  them  cheered  long  and  loud,  to  see  us  there  with 
tattered  rigging,  and  the  men  all  alive  and  working. 

We  were  alone  again,  securing  the  guns,  and  weigh- 
ing anchor^  while  the  mighty  waves  tossed  our  vessel 
about,  like  a  plaything,  on  their  long,  regular  swells. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       233 

The  rebs  tried  to  sweep  our  men  from  the  windlass- 
brakes,  but  their  death-laden  missiles  passed  over  our 
heads,  shrieking  at  being  deprived  of  their  victims. 
Before  we  were  fully  underway,  we  were  nearer  the 
fort  than  before,  and  as  we  hoisted  the  double-reefed 
sail,  and  swept  before  the  gale,  away  from  danger, 
they  fired  three  and  four  guns  at  a  time  at  us,  but  as 
the  vessel's  stern  was  directly  fronting  them,  they  had 
a  small  mark  to  aim  at,  and  the  result  of  their  efforts 
was,  that  they  did  not  rake  us  at  all,  and  although 
the  hot  shot  sizzled  alongside,  and  the  helmsman  ex- 
pected to  lose  his  head,  with  our  colors  flying  we 
came  to  anchor  where  their  guns  could  not  reach  us. 

The  steamers  were  at  anchor,  and  getting  ready 
for  the  afternoon  combat.  The  long  siege  guns  of 
the  Union  Army,  were  hurling  death  at  every  shot  ; 
The  rebels  had  deserted  their  outer  works,  and  were 
firing  the  casemate  guns  very  slow  and  faint,  and  the 
infantry  were  marching  to  storm  the  fort,  when  the 
rebel  flag,  that  had  waved  in  our  faces  for  seven  months, 
was  seen  to  fall  to  the  groimd.  The  firing  ceased  ; 
the  Union  troops  soon  had  possession  of  the  fort,  and 
the  glorious  flag  of  freedom  was  flying  in  the  place 
of  the  rebel  rag.  Such  was  the  fall  of  Fort  Macon ; 
and  at  last  the  grand  key  of  North  Carolina  was  in 
Union  hands. 

It  was  twenty  minutes  of  three  o'clock,  in  the 
afternoon,  when  the  dear  old  flag  was  thrown  to  the 
breeze,  and  the  naval  force  entered  the  narrow  chan- 
nel. We  lay  at  anchor  and  repaired  the  rigging,  and 
fixed  the  upper  yards  tliat  had  been  sprung.     The 


234       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

grog  tub  was  placed  on  the  quarter-deck,  and  all 
hands  "  spliced  the  main  brace."  I  was  tempted  to 
toss  off  a  tot  of  the  rations,  and  if  hot  lead  had  been 
poured  down  ray  throat,  I  should  have  suffered  no 
more.  It  was  the  first  and  last  whiskey  that  I  ever 
dared  to  drink,  and  the  lesson  it  taught  me  has  saved 
my  health  and  character. 

The  real  main  braces  were  then  overhauled  and 
spliced  to  satisfaction,  and  all  the  backstays,  and  low- 
er rigging  repaired.  The  gale  abated,  and  the  next 
day  we  raised  the  anchor  to  enter  the  harbor,  but  ran 
hard  and  fast  on  the  sand  bar.  That  was  a  pretty 
predicament;  the  barque  drew  fourteen  feet,  three 
inches,  and  about  us  was  only  twelve  feet  of  water, 
at  high  tide.  One  thing  in  our  favor  was,  that  the 
moon  was  near  its  full,  and  would  rise  the  tide  to 
fourteen  feet.  If  we  had  gone  a  little  distance  fur- 
ther, we  could  have  easily  entered,  but  here  we  hung 
for  three  days.  The  steamers  parted  every  hawser 
that  they  had  to  connect  themselves  to  us,  and  only 
drew  us  on  to  the  bar. 

"  Oh,  they  can  jerk  us  over ;  who  cares  how  many 
hawsers  they  part,"  exclaimed  one. 

"  This  is  a  mix  of  a  fix, — out  here,  pounding  and 
thumping.  I  wish  the  '  Forbes '  was  here,"  chimed 
in  another. 

"  I  reckon  we  shan't  get  in  at  all ;  cuss  these 
Southern  harbors,"  was  the  fretful  ejaculation  of  a 
tliird.  The  steamers  gave  it  up  ;  they  could  not  pull 
nor  jerk  us  over,  and  did  not  like  the  sport  of  snapping 
hawsers.     Sunday  morning  a  stix)ng  sea  breeze  blew 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailo^^s  Life.       235 

fair  in  shore.  The  barque  lay  easy,  and  the  Captain,- 
as  soon  as  he  came  on  deck,  had  the  lead  sounding, 
and  we  were  glad  to  hear  a  report  of  nearly  fourteen 
feet  just  ahead. 

*'  Lay  up  there,  Ned,  and  loose  everything,  from 
royal  down.     1  '11  jump  this  craft  over  that  bar." 

Every  sail  was  spread  to  the  strong,  fresh  breeze  ; 
the  vessel  shuddered .  and  started ;  spars  bent  and 
sails  split. 

"  Put  your  wheel  exactly  amidship,"  shouted  the 
Captain,  and  the  barque  plunged  over  the  bar,  and 
flew  like  a  racer  straight  for  the  beach. 

"  Port  braces  there.  Jump,  men,  jump.  Look 
lively  there." 

The  helmsman  rolled  down  the  wheel,  and  the  swift 
vessel  shot  into  the  channel. 

"  Stand  by  to  let  run  and  clew  up.  Let  go  the 
haUiards.     Clew  up,  clew  up,"  he  shouted. 

"  Stand  by  your  anchor,  —  let  go  the  anchor  ;  roll 
up  the  sails,  and  put  a  harbor  furl  on  them,  with  har- 
bor gaskets." 

The  Captain  was  in  his  glory,  pipe  in  hand.  He 
had  slipped  his  craft  over  the  bar,  and  only  wrenched 
her  a  little,  and  broke  off  the  false  keel.  He  was 
a  pleased  man,  and  all  hands  were  in  good  humor, 
at  our  escape  from  breaking  up  on  the  bar.  That 
night  the  "  Chippewa  "  towed  us  into  the  harbor,  and 
we  lay  snug  from  outside  storms  and  blockading,  for 
a  while,  at  least,  and  supped  bountifully  on  fresh 
trout,  sweet  potatoes,  and  other  dainties  we  purchased 
in  the  town. 


236       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life. 

We  were  to  lay  there  until  the  prize  ships  were 
ready  to  sail,  and  there  were  many  things  to  be  done. 
I  asked  liberty  to  go  and  inspect  the  shore,  and  it 
was  cheerfully  given.  Entering  the  fort  I  saw  hun- 
dreds of  pounds  of  broken  shell  scattered  about. 
Some  were  broken  in  quarters  and  thirds ;  others 
mto  very  small  pieces.  I  entered  the  passage  lead- 
ing over  the  moat  that  ran  around  the  fort ;  but 
which  was  now  dry.  Blood  was  on  the  wall  ;  blood 
and  clothing  on  the  ground  ;  blood  on  the  wood  work 
and  bridge ;  it  was  terrible  where  a  heavy  shell  had 
sent  three  into  eternity. 

There  was  a  furnace  for  heating  the  shot,  and  I 
took  a  peep  at  it.  I  saw  in  a  moment  that  the  shot, 
at  a  white  heat,  could  be  dropped  down  a  cannon's 
muzzle,  and  fall  on  a  wad  of  wet  clay,  thus  giving  the 
gunners  time  to  sight  and  fire  the  piece,  before  it 
could  ignite  the  powder.  The  large,  and  well-mount- 
ed cannon,  from  the  "  Tredegar  Works,"  was  filled  to 
the  muzzle  with  grape,  bullets,  and  stones,  —  nice 
little  things  to  carry  death  among  the  Union  soldiers 
when  they  rushed  to  storm  the  fort.  Large  guns  lay 
about,  dismounted  by  the  solid  shot  from  our  naval 
forces ;  and  the  rails  from  the  railroad,  that  in  double 
tiers  protected  the  casemate,  were  cut  through,  like 
pipe  stems,  by  the  shot  from  the  siege  guns  upon  the 
land.  As  I  stood  on  the  top  of  the  casemate,  I  counted 
forty-one  guns,  of  large  and  small  calibre.  The  bod- 
ies of  the  men,  who  were  killed,  and  those  wounded, 
had  been  taken  away,  and  an  estimate  of  the  rebel 
loss  was  set  at  fifteen  killed,  and  thirty  wounded,  but 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       237 

the  truth  will  never  be  known  from  their  account ; 
they  lost  heavily,  but  would  not  acknowledge  it. 

Everything  was  in  confusion.  The  Union  soldiers 
were  now  in  full  possession  of  the  place.  I  again 
mounted  the  walls,  and  as  my  eye  fell  on  the  immense 
holes  in  the  groimd,  I  realized  the  terrible  execution 
and  power  of  the  guns.  I  was  astonished  at  the  great 
amount  of  shot  and  shell  that  had  been  thrown  at 
the  fort,  and  having  found  a  "  secesh  soger,"  I  entered 
into  conversation  with  him. 

"  And  where  is  that  sailing  vessel,"  I  asked,  "  that 
lay  so  near  you  when  we  helped  to  bombard  your 
fort  ? " 

"  Oh,  we  sunk  her." 

«  You  did  ? " 

*'  Yes,  we  did.  I  saw  every  shot  hit  her,  and  ex- 
pected to  see  her  blown  out  of  water." 

"  What  did  you  fire  at  her  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Red-hot  shot,  'cause  we  thought  she  would  blow 
up  every  minute." 

"  How  do  you  know  you  sunk  her  ?  " 

"  'Cause  our  papers  said  we  did ;  and  I  know  she 
could  not  live  after  the  peppering  she  got." 

"  Oh,  you  're  sadly  mistaken,  just  as  your  leaders 
are." 

"  No  I  haint ;  look  where  she  clipped  these  guns 
with  her  thirty-two's,  and  upset  them  large  guns  with 
her  heavy  shell ;  she 's  gone  up,  sure." 

"  No,"  I  replied,  "  there  she  lays  at  anchor,  all 
hunky,  and  not  a  man  killed,  and  I  hope  will  help 
knock  your  other  forts  into  cocked  hats." 


238       Seve7i  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

"  Well,  I  hope  I  may  be  derned  if  it  aint  the  truth ; 
just  as  true  as  I  am  a  corn-fed,  and  that 's  a  fact ; 
bless  me,  who  would  have  thought  that  cussed  little 
ship  want  sunk.  Good  day,  stranger,  1  '11  go  and  find 
some  corn  grits  and  bacon  ;  good  day,"  and  away 
hurried  the  secesh,  after  his  rations. 

I  wandered  along  the  shores,  and  gathered  a  quan- 
tity of  oysters.  The  bivalves  were  small,  but  excel- 
lent, and  having  eaten  my  fill,  I  gathered  a  lot  to 
take  to  our  mess.  Just  then  I  saw  the  cutter  com- 
ing over  the  water,  and  as  it  landed  the  crew,  I  cried 
out,  "  Here  are  the  oysters,  boys ;  come  and  get  a 
feed."  The  boys  ran  to  the  shoal  water,  and  waded 
in,  tearing  the  oysters  from  their  beds,  until  they  had 
gathered  bushels  of  them,  and  then,  knife  in  hand, 
began  to  open  and  eat. 

"  Hey,  Mackey,  aint  they  gay  ?  I  reckon  the  rebs 
must  have  lived  well  on  shell  fish." 

''  Come,  lads,  eat  and  be  merry,"  I  said,  "  for  you 
will  not  gt;t  ashore  again.  Let  us  take  a  boat-load 
aboard,  the  Captain  won't  say  a  word  against  it." 

We  filled  two  barrels  with  the  oysters,  and  rolled 
them  down  to  the  boat.  The  cutter's  crew  entered 
the  fort,  and  afterwards  came  down  to  the  boat  witli 
old  bayonets,  cross-belts,  and  cartridge  boxes  in  their 
hands,  and  we  all  returned  to  our  vessel,  quite  light 
hearted,  and  rejoiced  the  hearts  of  the  boys  on  board 
with  a  few  oysters  to  open. 

The  prize  ships  were  manned  by  crews  from  the 
different  vessels,  and  dropped  down  the  harbor,  nar- 
rowly escaped  striking  the  wreck  of  the  burned  Eng- 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       239 

lish  barque.  They  were  all  ready  for  sea,  and  had 
valuable  cargoes  of  tar,  cotton,  and  turpentine.  The 
"  Alliance  "  was  the  largest  ship,  and  the  "  Grondar," 
though  much  smaller,  was  a  good,  staunch  vessel,  and 
had  a  full  cargo.  We  were  to  convey  them  to  Fort- 
ress Monroe,  and  from  thence  to  Baltimore.  This 
order  was  hailed  with  rousing  cheers  from  our  crew ; 
and  with  a  steamer  ahead  of  us,  and  a  hawser  to  pull 
us  over  the  bar,  we  left  the  harbor  with  the  two  prize 
ships,  and  all  our  colors  flying. 


240       Seven  Y^ears  of  a  Sailot^s  Life, 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Cruising  for  a  Prize  —  The  Night  Chase  —  A  Fast  Sailor  tries  our 
Speed  —  Our  Captain  at  the  Guns  —  Capture  of  the  "Ariel"  — 
A  Race  with  a  Steamer —  We  are  ordered  to  Baltimore —  In  Dock 
for  Repairs  —  The  "  Alleghany  "  —  Nine  Day's  Liberty  —  A  Gen- 
eral Scattering  —  High  Life  and  Low  Life  —  "  Going  it  Blind  "  — 
A  Free  Fight  on  Board  the  Guardo  —  Return  to  the  "  Gemsbok  " 
—  Off  she  Goes. 


HE  "Alice"  towed  us  safely  down  the  chan- 
nel, and  after  a  few  thumps  and  bumps,  the 
two  ships  joined  us.  The  ships  had  every 
sail  spread,  and  moved  through  the  water  very  slowly. 
The  crew  had  an  abundance  to  eat,  drink,  and  smoke, 
and  a  plenty  of  men  to  work  the  ship.  Our  barque 
ranged  alongside,  and  having  given  to  the  prize  officers 
plain  directions  as  to  the  course  and  style  of  sailing, 
we  set  our  light  sails  and  ran  straight  out  to  sea.  We 
knew  we  could  come  up  hand-over-hand  with  the  old 
rotten  boats,  for  they  could  sail  only  about  one  mile 
to  our  three,  and  we  therefore  shot  off  on  a  cruise  of 
our  own. 

Two  days  passed,  and  no  sign  of  a  sail  had  been 
seen ;  but  at  midnight  the  watchful  men  reported  a 
vessel  to  windward,  running  to  the  land.  We  were  on 
good  cruising  ground,  about  thirty  miles  off  Wilming- 
ton, and  had  an  idea  that  it  might  be  a  blockade  run- 
ner. Powerful  glasses  made  her  out  to  be  a  full-rig- 
ged brig,  with  all  sail  set,  and  bound  straight  for  the 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,      241 

shore.  She  was  seven  miles  to  the  windward  ;  and 
then  began  one  of  the  most  exciting  times  in  sea 
cruising.  We  were  braced  sharp  on  the  wind,  and 
dashing  over  the  moon-lit  sea,  the  yard  braces  hard 
against  the  backstays,  and  every  staysail  and  jib  well 
trimmed  down.  The  brig  could  see  our  movements 
very  plain,  for  our  white  sails  gleamed  in  the  moon- 
light ;  but  she  was  a  dull  looking  mass,  far  to  wind- 
ward. The  breeze  began  to  freshen,  and  still  we 
cracked  on  our  way,  keeled  over  by  the  wind,  and 
throwing  the  salt  spit  higher  than  the  fore-yards. 

Daylight  came  upon  the  scene,  and  revealed  the 
brig  on  the  other  tack,  close  hauled  on  the  wind. 
We  were  eager  to  fire  at  her,  and  the  Captain  had 
the  forward  gun  fired  across  her  bows.  No  heed 
was  paid  to  it,  and  we  secured  the  gun ;  our  shot 
had  fallen  short  of  the  mark.  All  that  day  we  hung 
to  the  leeward,  and  did  not  gain  two  miles  upon 
her.  Had  our  guns  been  able  to  reach  her.  she  would 
have  hove  to,  but  we  saw  she  was  a  fast  sailor,  and 
was  bound  to  give  us  a  good  trial.  The  wind  soon 
came  from  the  west,  harder  and  stronger.  We  were 
obliged  to  take  in  our  light  sails,  but  the  brig  took 
in  not  a  thread.  As  night  came  on,  the  vessel  tacked 
again,  headed  straight  for  Bogue  Inlet,  and  all  doubts 
of  her  nationality  were  at  once  removed. 

Our  Captain  was  now  fully  aroused,  and  shouted, — 
"  All  hands  on  deck.  Bring  along  that  stern-chaser 
to  the  forward  part  of  the  poop ;  we  will  try  him 
with  a  boot-leg  shell." 

The  twenty-pound  rifle  gun,  warranted  to  carry  a 


242       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life, 

shot  four  miles,  was  soon  belching  out  its  tongue  of 
flame,  and  casting  iron  at  the  clipper.  Shell  after 
shell  went  singing  on  its  mission,  but  the  brig  paid 
no  heed.  Every  officer  tried  the  gun  witho\it  suc- 
cess, and  at  last  the  Captain,  too  nervous  to  keep 
still,  pointed  and  fired  it  himself.  "  Ah,  wliat  did  I 
tell  you,  McDermot,  we  will  yet  have  her,  as  sure  as 
a  gun ;  don't  let  anybody  handle  the  gun,  after  this, 
but  myself." 

In  came  the  brig's  light  sails,  and  she  lay  passive 
upon  the  dark  sea.  Our  next  niove  was  to  work  up 
to  her  and  take  possession.  Night  overshadowed  the 
scene,  and  as  the  dull  light  of  the  moon  struggled 
through  the  rugged  clouds,  we  saw  our  much  covet- 
ed brig,  with  every  sail  set,  sweeping  across  our  bows, 
and  going  like  a  racer,  with  yards  laid  square.  Our 
officers  were  astonished  at  this  bold  manoeuvre,  but  in 
two  minutes'  time,  we  were  flying  after  the  fugitive, 
at  the  rate  of  twelve  knots  an  hour. 

"  All  right,"  vociferated  the  excited  Captain,  "  I  'II 
have  him  now.  What  does  that  fellow  mean  ?  At 
any  rate  he  has  good  spunk.  Don't  fire  any  more  at 
him;  we'll  take  the  vessel  all  whole."  The  long 
night  wore  away,  and  at  daylight  we  were  close  upon 
the  runaway ;  when,  as  quick  as  a  flash,  round  went 
his  yards,  and  close  hauled  again,  he  ran  for  the 
coast.  We  followed  suit,  and  gained  rapidly  on  the 
brig,  but  not  until  the  moon  was  high  in  the  heavens, 
and  the  sand-hills  of  Carolina  were  peeping  out  before 
us,  did  the  English  brig  "Ariel,"  Capt.  Pendelton, 
become  a  lawful  prize  to  our  vessel. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       243 

Our  crew  gave  three  cheers ;  the  Captain  wiped 
his  brow,  and  in  person  took  possession  of  the  brig. 
The  cutter  had  a  prize  crew  placed  aboard  ;  once 
more  our  Captain  stood  on  his  own  deck,  highly 
pleased  with  the  results,  and  soon  had  both  vessels 
on  their  proper  course.  The  "  Ariel "  was  new,  just 
from  Halifax,  loaded  to  the  deck  with  pure  white  salt, 
and  proved  to  be  a  valuable  prize. 

Our  men  were  satisfied  with  our  last  cruise  off 
Wilmington,  and  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  our  com- 
panions, as  they  gathered  in  groups  on  the  deck,  and 
discussed  the  merits  of  the  new  prize.  We  soon  des- 
cried the  old  ships  plodding  along,  with  all  sail  set, 
well  to  the  northward  of  Hatteras,  and  joined  them. 
The  brig  went  ahead,  and  reached  the  Roads  in  safe- 
ty, but  was  run  ashore  after  she  arrived  there,  and 
finally  towed  off  by  the  "  R.  B.  Forbes,"  a  large  and 
strong  tug  boat  from  Boston,  and  sent  to  the  port  of 
Philadelphia,  where  the  commissioners  soon  had  the 
cargo  and  vessel  sold.  We  clewed  up  our  light-sails, 
and  jogged  along  with  the  two  ships  ;  but  when  the 
steamer  "  Eastern  State  "  came  along  under  sail  and 
steam,  we  clapped  on  all  our  canvas  and  raced  with 
her.  We  saw  many  gun-boats  going  to  the  south- 
ward, and  signalized  them.  That  night  the  wind  blew 
very  hard  from  the  south-east,  and  with  only  the  fore- 
topsail  set,  and  the  mainsail  single  reefed,  we  flew 
over  the  rushing  seas  like  a  racer.  It  blew  so  hard 
that  it  took  one  hour  for  four  men  to  furl  the  main 
top-gallant  sail,  at  the  peril  of  their  lives,  although, 
generally,  it  was  but  three  minutes'  work.     With 


244       Seven  Years  of  a  SaiMs  Life. 

the  yards  laid  square,  we  sailed  all  night  before  the 
gale,  and  at  noon  the  next  day  entered  the  Roads. 
The  steamer  came  in,  ten  hours  after,  and  the  men 
on  board  of  it  were  a  little  astonished  upon  finding 
our  vessel  snugly  at  anchor,  as  they  steamed  by. 

The  Roads  were  full  of  vessels,  as  usual.     We  lay 
near  the  large  steamer  "  Constitution,"  a  splendid 
boat,  loaded  with  soldiers   destined  for  the  Butler 
Expedition.    The  next  night  the  two  lumbering  ships 
made  their  entry  into  the  Roads,  and  anchored  near 
us.     The  officers  came  to  our  vessel  to  report  that 
all  were  well,  and  the  next  day  sailed  for  New  York. 
"We  weighed  anchor  and  took  a  position  off  the  Rip- 
Raps'  fort,  and  soon  had  carpenters  at  work  examin- 
ing and  making  necessary  repairs.     The  yards  and 
upper  spars  were  sent  down  to  the  deck  and  repaired, 
and  in  a  week's  time  were  in  good  condition,  and  in 
their  proper  places  again.     This  stripping  and  dress- 
ing made  active  work  for  all  hands,  but  the  barque 
was  soon  in  ship-shape  order.     We  expected  to  be 
sent  again  to  our  blockade  station,  but  were  ordered 
to  Baltimore,  to  have  the  hull  repaired  in  the  dry 
dock.     Our  men  were  joyous  at  this  news,  and  were 
making  great  calculations  upon  the  glorious   times 
they  would  have  when  they  put  their  feet  on  the 
streets  of  Baltimore. 

All  went  on  smoothly,  and  in  less  than  four  days' 
time,  we  were  lying  at  the  wharf  at  Baltimore.  The 
heavy  guns  were  slung,  and  placed  upon  the  wharf, 
with  their  carriages,  and  a  general  clearing  out  of  the 
chip  took  place.     After  the  stores  had  been  landed 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,      245 

and  placed  in  safe  warehouses,  the  sails  and  upper 
yards  were  sent  down,  the  vessel  was  in  order  to 
enter  the  dock.  The  crew  were  placed  aboard  the 
guardo  "  Alleghany,"  and  we  made  ourselves  at 
home,  there  being  only  five  hundred  men  there. 
There  were  many  gunboats  in  the  harbor,  and  the 
street,  leading  to  Fell's  Point,  was  always  full  of  sail- 
ors. After  a  two  weeks'  sojourn  aboard  the  Guardo, 
an  01  der  came  to  give  the  men  of  the  "  Gemsbok  " 
nine  days'  liberty,  with  money.  This  was  hailed  with 
glad  shouts  by  some,  and  with  winking  or  sly  looks 
by  others.  The  men  went  ashore  in  the  ship's  boats, 
and  received  their  money  from  the  purser,  who  cau- 
tioned every  one  to  look  out  for  himself,  and  as  they 
left  the  room,  they  nodded  assent.  We  were  all 
ordered  to  report  on  board  the  Guardo  at  the  expira/- 
tion  of  nine  days,  and  away  we  went,  light-hearted, 
and  looking  for  a  good  boarding-house.  Some  of  the 
men  went  on  to  Boston,  and  never  came  back  ;  some 
shipped  in  merchant  ships  for  Liverpool ;  two  joined 
the  army,  and  ninety  of  us  remained  in  Baltimore. 

My  chum  and  myself,  with  a  dozen  others,  took 
quarters  in  Green's  boarding-house,  Thames  Street, 
and  had  excellent  living  and  good,  clean  beds.  We 
enjoyed  the  luxuries  of  good  water,  good  food,  and  a 
quiet  house.  Secession  was  rampant,  but  as  there 
were  plenty  of  soldiers  and  sailors  ashore,  the  bellig- 
erents kept  quiet.  Our  stay  in  the  city  was  one  of 
pleasure  and  profit  to  some,  and  of  rude  dissipatibn 
to  others.  The  only  fault  that  could  be  found  with 
our  boarding-house,  was  that  liquor  was  too  abun- 


246       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

dant,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  men  indulged 
rather  freely.  One  night  one  of  the  men  having, 
with  others,  emptied  a  gin  flask,  went  down  to  the 
bar  to  get  it  filled  again,  but  mistook  his  way,  and 
the  next  moment  we  heard  the  most  horrid  racket  in 
the  room  below.  The  man  was  being  chased  by  the 
savage  house  dog,  and  running  among  tables  and 
chairs  to  escape.  Having  tumbled  upon  the  stairs, 
he  rushed  up,  taking  flying  leaps,  and  the  door  being 
shut,  he  jumped  through  the  thin  wood- work,  and  fell 
to  the  floor  exhausted,  —  his  blue  shirt  hardly  cover- 
ing his  back. 

The  dog  was  sent  flying  down  stairs,  and  the  man 
put  into  bed.  It  was  that  man's  last  night  of  drink- 
ing, for  he  fully  believed  the  devil  was  after  him,  and 
became  a  temperate  man.  Pictures  were  taken  and 
sent  home,  and  I  supplied  myself  with  drawing  mate- 
rials to  make  any  little  sketches  I  fancied.  At  the 
expiration  of  our  furlough,  we  all  returned  to  the 
Guardo. 

The  "  Alleghany "  was  a  good  guard  ship,  being 
built  of  iron,  but  was  "  hogged,"  or,  as  landsmen 
would  say,  "  had  her  back  broken."  There  were  but 
seven  guns  on  her  deck,  and  those  were  of  but  little 
account.  After  we  had  been  aboard  the  ship  three 
days,  a  large  tug  came  alongside  with  a  draft  of  men 
from  Philadelphia ;  they  had  plenty  of  liquor  with 
them,  and  had  hardly  been  on  board  ten  minutes 
when  one  of  the  hardest  fights  took  place  that  I  ever 
witnessed.  Imagine,  if  you  can,  seven  hundred  men 
striking  each  other  for  the  fun  of  the  thing ;  when  one 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailors  Life,       247 

saw  a  head  he  hit  it,  laughing,  swearing,  and  fighting 
at  the  same  time.  The  most  prominent  among  them, 
was  a  large  six-footer,  —  a  Yankee  who  came  from 
Piiiladelphia.  Every  man  he  hit  was  sent  reeling  to 
the  deck ;  flannel  shirts,  men's  caps,  and  other  arti- 
cles were  flying  about  in  all  directions.  The  marines, 
quaking  in  their  boots,  with  bayonets  in  hand,  at- 
tempted to  arrest  the  fighters. 

"  Go  away,  soldier,  or  you  '11  get  hurt,"  cried  the 
sailor,  and  dipped  into  his  free  fight  again. 

The  Captain  gave  the  order  to  the  marines,  and 
with  pale  faces  they  charged  with  the  bayonet.  What 
was  Babel  before  was  Pandemonium  then.  The  sea- 
men dared  the  marines  to  touch  them,  and  the  Yankee 
giant  overturned  four  of  them  at  once,  and  a  spunky 
attack  in  the  rear  of  the  other  sent  them  on  a  light- 
ning train  to  the  cabin.  The  aged  Captain  of  the 
old  guardo  implored  them  to  desist,  and  after  a  few 
more  exciting  scenes,  the  men  became  wearied  of 
their  "  sport "  and  closed  the  exercises  of  the  day. 
The  leaders  of  this  fight  were  at  last  singled  out,  and 
put  in  irons  twenty-four  hours,  which  slight  punish- 
ment they  laughed  at.  I  once  heard  an  old  gunner 
who  had  served  in  the  Navy  from  boyhood  exclaim : 
"  I  wish  they  would  give  us  back  the  old  flogging 
law.  I  am  ashamed  to  see  men  now-a-days  gagged, 
bucked,  sweated,  made  spread  eagles  of,  and  put  in 
irons,  until  the  men  are  not  worth  a  picayune ;  give 
us  the  cat,  and  it 's  over  in  five  minutes."  The  greater 
part  of  the  work  of  our  carpenter  was  to  make  gags 
and  sticks  with  which  to  buck  men ;  the  best  men 


248       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

had  the  "  lilies,"  "  clamps,"  and  "bracelets  "  on  their 
arms,  and  then  walked  the  deck  for  punishment. 

Our  barque  was  caulked  and  newly  painted,  and 
one  fine  morning  lay  waiting  for  us  in  the  stream. 

"  Up  bags  and  hammocks  and  go  to  your  craft," 
was  the  order,  and  soon  we  walked  our  new  deck 
of  white  oak.  The  boarding-house  keeper  sent  us 
cooked  meat  and  strawberries,  with  a  large  bottle  of 
whiskey  concealed  beneath  fried  eggs.  Other  friends 
supplied  cigars,  paper,  and  the  necessary  articles  for 
sewing.  Our  stores  were  all  in  their  places  ;  pow- 
der, guns,  and  shot  on  board,  and  with  the  white 
sails  swelling  with  the  fresh  breeze,  we  left  the  har- 
bor, amid  the  rousing  cheers  of  the  guardo's  men, 
and  the  crews  of  the  gun-boats.  We  soon  passed  Fort 
McHenry,  dipping  our  colors  ;  then  by  the  heavy 
Fortress  in  the  river,  and  thence  down  the  bay,  to  the 
blue  ocean. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.      249 


CHAPTER    XXY. 

A  Recruiting  Expedition  —  Arrival  at  Provincetown  —  The  "  Gems- 
bok "  an  attractive  Visitor  —  Cape  Men  not  Easily  Caught  — 
Whalers  and  their  Boats  —  Adventure  with  a  Horse-Mackerel  — 
The  Dutchman  and  the  Skate-Fish — Pride  Hunibled — Off  for 
Portland  —  A  Gay  Time  on  Board  —  Battle  Lanterns  and  Flags  ; 
Music  and  Dancing  —  A  Little  too  Much  for  the  Musicians  — 
Return  to  Provincetown  —  "  Good  Bye,  Miss  Gemsbok  " —  Once 
more  at  Home. 


HERE  were  we  bound  ?  Were  we  once  more 
to  have  a  dip  at  the  prizes  and  rebels,  or  were 
we  to  lay  in  the  Roads,  off  the  Fortress,  to 
await  orders  ?  Such  inquiries  were  brought  to  an  end 
when  our  barque  came  opposite  Cape  Charles,  for 
then  the  vessel  was  hauled  on  the  wind,  and  headed 
up  north-east.  It  soon  became  known  that  we  were 
bound  on  a  recruiting  expedition;  for  the  term  of 
service  of  many  of  the  crew  had  nearly  expired,  and 
"  down  east  we  might  pick  up  a  few  whalers  and 
fishermen."  This  was  good  news ;  officers  and  men 
felt  gay  and  happy,  the  officers  especially  as  they  were 
to  meet  their  wives  in  Provincetown. 

We  had  a  very  good  run,  and  cast  anchor  in  that 
pleasant  harbor  one  fine  Sunday  night,  and  put  an 
extra  furl  in  the  sails,  making  them  taper  away  to 
fine  points.  How  pleasant  it  seemed  to  us  to  be  at 
anchor  off  that  prosperous  little  Yankee  town.     How 


250       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

different  Northern  industry  from  Southern  indolence 
and  recklessness  !  How  beautiful  the  sound  of  church 
bells  calling  the  well-dressed,  orderly  and  numerous 
worshippers  to  their  Sabbath  services,  and  how  strange- 
ly in  contrast  with  the  booming  guns,  agonized  and 
dying  men,  and  the  whole  paraphernalia  of  war  which 
we  had  left  behind.  The  very  fishing  vessels  present- 
ed a  more  grateful  sight  to  our  eyes  than  the  heavy 
frigates,  and  prowling  gunboats. 

Our  neat  and  saucy  looking  craft  attracted  much 
attention ;  and  crowds  of  both  sexes,  old  and  young, 
were  always  on  board.  Our  officers  had  their  lady 
loves  at  hand,  and  made  the  most  of  their  precious 
time  ;  but  recruits  came  in  slowly.  There  were  plen- 
ty of  good  men  on  shore,  who  were  making  better 
pay  than  fourteen  dollars  a  month.  The  whalers 
dashed  around  us  in  their  light,  well-modelled  boats, 
and  our  Captain's  gig  had  many  a  friendly  race  with 
them.  This  racing  induced  many  to  ship  with  us, 
mostly  young  w^halers.  One  day  a  school  of  horse- 
mackerel  came  into  the  harbor,  and  our  cutter,  armed 
with  a  large  harpoon,  was  unlucky  enough  to  fasten 
itself  to  one.  The  astonished  fish  towed  the  boat 
and  crew  in  every  direction  ;  and  then  half  filled  the 
boat  with  water  by  a  powerful  movement  of  his  tail. 
The  officer  in  charge  was  glad  when  the  iron  drew  out 
and  the  fish  escaped.  The  wet  and  surly  boat's  crew 
came  back  to  the  vessel ;  and  if  any  one  wanted  to 
make  a  fuss  he  had  only  to  say  to  them,  "  liorse-mack- 
erel,  my  lad." 

As  I  was  one  of  the  crew  of  the  gig,  I  was  ashore 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       251 

most  of  the  time ;  but  Sunday  I  could  not  go,  and 
the  men  dared  me  to  ask  the  Captain  for  permission 
to  attend  church  ashore.  Well  they  knew  if  I  did 
not  go,  they  would  not ;  and,  arrayed  in  my  best,  I 
stood  before  the  officer  who  looked  as  black  as  a  thun- 
der-cloud. 

"  I  would  like  to  go  ashore  to  church,  to-day,  sir," 

"Ah,  ha  ;  you  do.  What  do  you  go  to  church  for  ? 
you  won't  recollect  the  text,  you  will  look  at  the  girls 
all  the  time,  and  think  more  of  them  than  of  the  ser- 
mon." 

"Well,  sir,  I  thought  you  would  permit  me  to  go, 
as  I  shall  be  under  the  officer's  eye." 

"  W^ill  you  go  to  church  and  tell  me  the  text,  when 
you  come  aboard  ? " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Well  then,  go." 

Rejoicing  at  my  success,  I  went  to  church  in  the 
forenoon,  and  off  among  the  green  hills  in  the  after- 
noon, picking  berries  and  rolling  on  the  green  velvet. 
At  the  proper  time  I  returned,  and  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  knowing  that  the  Captain  was  pleased  with 
my  conduct. 

Several  ladies  sent  off  pans  of  cake  to  the  messes, 
and  the  sailors  had  fine  times  on  the  berth  deck, 
dancing  cotillons  with  a  number  of  ladies,  who  came 
off  in  dories. 

There  was  a  Dutchman  in  our  vessel,  who  had 
never  seen  a  skate-fish,  and  one  having  been  taken, 
one  night,  it  was  suspended  over  his  hammock.  As 
soon  as  he  awoke,  he  saw  the  ugly,  misshapen  thing 


252       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

staring  him  in  the  face.  With  a  yell  of  rage,  he 
grasped  the  queer  fish  by  the  tail,  and  be-labored 
every  man  who  came  in  his  way,  shouting,  —  "  Who 
hung  the  devil  over  my  hammock  ?  Take  that,  you 
bean-eater ;  what  for  you  scare  me  so  much  ?  '*  His 
anger  cooled  as  his  devil  wore  out,  and  at  last,  only 
the  tough  tail  remained  in  his  hand. 

Many  of  the  men  now  began  to  ask  for  discharge, 
and  Ashton,  our  coxswain,  having  procured  his, 
dressed  himself  in  citizens'  clothes,  and  tall  hat,  and 
sailed  around  the  barque,  in  a  boat  called  the 
"  Bloomer."  One  of  the  crew  cried  out  to  him, 
"  Well,  you  have  got  a  hard  cheek  to  wear  a  nail  keg 
in  sight  of  this  vessel's  crew."  "  Oh  yes,  I  pay  for 
this,"  the  proud  coxswain  retorted,  when  over  jibbed 
the  boat's  main  boom,  and  Ashton,  and  his  tall  hat 
were  knocked  into  the  water.  He  was  rescued  by 
the  sail-boat's  crew,  and  was  set  ashore,  feeling  a 
little  chagrined. 

Having  received  fifteen  men,  we  raised  the  anchor 
to  the  bow,  and  sailed  for  Portland.  In  passing  out 
of  the  harbor,  we  nearly  ran  ashore,  on  Woodend 
Point,  but  was  pulled  off  by  the  boats,  and  that  night 
dropped  our  mud-hook  in  Portland  harbor.  We  lay 
below  the  harbor  light-house,  at  the  extremity  of  the 
breakwater,  and  had  quite  a  pull  from  there  to  the 
boat  landing.  It  was  pull  the  boat  all  the  time ; 
carrying  visitors  and  raw  recruits.  Twenty  men 
shipped  with  us.  One  of  the  new  comers  was  a 
young  soldier,  who  shipped  as  landsman,  and  as  he 
sat  in  the  bow,  with  his  mouth  filled  with  cake  and 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       253 

nuts,  exclaimed,  "  Well,  it 's  awful  liubbly  here ; 
what  is  the  boat  making  the  water  spirt  so  for  ? " 
The  bow-oarsman  turned  on  his  seat  and  answered, 
"  Never  mind  the  "  hubbies ;"  we  '11  bring  a  shovel 
next  time,  and  level  them  down  for  you."  The  poor 
fellow  found  worse  hubbies,  before  he  had  served  out 
his  term  in  the  Navy.  I  liked  Portland  very  much, 
and  rambled  up  and  down  the  streets,  with  the  rest 
of  the  boat's  crew.  We  were  well  found  in  cash ; 
two  of  the  crew  always  had  long,  flat  bottles  of  whis- 
key, concealed  in  their  stocking  legs,  every  time  we 
went  aboard. 

The  recruits  were  coming  in  too  slow,  therefore 
the  officers  had  a  grand  carousal,  in  order  to  make 
the  crew  enlist  again.  All  that  day  we  went  back 
and  forth,  from  ship  to  shore,  racing  with  every  boat 
that  came  in  our  way.  We  had  pulled  the  long, 
light  gig  so  much,  with  the  slender  eighteen  feet  oars, 
that  she  seemed  to  fly  over  the  water,  and  every 
oar  fell  in  time  to  the  water,  and  rose  again  like 
clock-work.  At  night  we  conveyed  twenty  musi- 
cians from  the  fort  to  the  ship,  and  soon  had  martial 
music  resounding  over  the  calm,  dark  water.  Bat- 
tle lanterns  shed  their  glow  upon  the  lively  scene. 
The  ladies  and  officers  danced  on  the  smooth  deck, 
and  the  crew  had  all  the  raw  whiskey  they  wante.d. 
Speeches  were  made,  many  toasts  given,  and  all  went 
merrily ;  but  only  four  of  the  old  crew  enlisted,  al- 
though the  petty  officers  retained  their  places. 

At  midnight,  after  we  had  conveyed  the  ladies  to 
the  shore,  we  returned  for  the  weary  musicians,  and 


254       Seven  Yedrs  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

found  most  of  them  happy-drunk,  and  blowing  ear- 
splitting  notes,  whiskey,  and  Dutch  laughter  through 
their  instruments.  We  helped  them  down  the  side- 
ladder,  and  laid  them  in  the  boat,  like  cord  wood. 
One  valorous  man  perched  himself  on  the  boat's 
stern,  and  fell  overboard  ;  he  was  fished  up  full  of 
salt  water,  having  lost  his  cap  and  cornet.  Tliis  acci- 
dent kept  the  rest  of  them  still ;  they  were  finally 
landed,  and  staggered  off"  to  their  barracks.  We  re- 
turned to  the  barque,  and  hoisted  the  boat  to  her 
cranes,  then  went  below  to  turn  in.  Sleep  was  out 
of  the  question  ;  the  crew  were  quarreling  and  fight- 
ing among  themselves,  in  good  style,  and  in  less  than 
an  hour,  ten  of  them  were  placed  in  irons,  or  tied 
together  to  bite  at  each  other's  noses.  I  laid  down 
again,  but  the  shrill  pip^  of  the  boson  soon  called 
all  hands  to  the  windlass.  Such  a  set  of  wild,  sleepy 
men  is  seldom  seen,  as  filled  those  windlass  brakes ; 
the  work  of  five  minutes  occupied  an  hour,  the  crew 
working  lazily  enough. 

Two  brigs  bound  for  the  West  Indies,  passed  us 
with  fair  wind  and  tide,  and  among  the  crew  we 
noticed  two  or  three  of  our  men,  who  had  run  away 
from  the  prize  ships.  As  they  were  loosing  the  roy- 
als, they  screamed  out  to  us,  "  How  are  you,  old 
junk  ;  want  to  ship  any  landsmen  ?  "  "  Good-bye, 
Sally  Back,"  and  many  other  interrogatories  and  as- 
sertions not  very  pleasing  to  ears  polite.  We  mast- 
headed the  topsails,  and  were  wafted  down  the  nar- 
row strait  that  leads  into  the  wide  ocean.  It  was 
quite  light,  but  objects  on  the  water  were  not  plainly 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life,       255 

seen,  and  the  first  mishap  that  occurred,  was  to  run 
fair  into  the  large  buoy  anchored  on  the  ledge.  The 
danger  of  striking  was  easily  avoided  by  bracing 
back  the  main-yards,  and  keeping  a  better  lookout. 
One  of  the  men  had  a  fishing-line  over  the  side,  and 
soon  all  hands  were  busy  hauling  in  the  haddock 
that  swarmed  about  us.  This  kind  of  sport  lasted 
about  half  an  hour,  and  then,  with  yards  laid  square, 
and  plenty  of  fresh  fish,  we  shaped  our  course  again 
for  ProvinCetown. 

That  night  we  anchored  in  the  same  place  that  we 
had  before  occupied,  and  the  same  old  scenes  were 
re-enacted  ;  the  men  went  to  the  weirs  after  fish,  and 
the  officers  to  church,  and  pic-nics.  The  glorious 
Fourth  of  July  passed  without  our  firing  a  gun, 
though  the  vessel  was  gaily  decked  with  flags,  and 
many  visitors  came  aboard.  The  day  passed  quietly 
away,  and  every  one  that  followed  was  as  quiet  as  we 
could  wish.  The  term  of  service  of  many  of  the  men 
was  about  expiring,  and  efforts  were  made  to  have 
them  stay  by  the  ship,  but  all  entreaty  proved  useless ; 
they  were  too  near  their  homes  to  be  prevailed  upon 
to  remain  longer  from  them,  and  wanted  their  dis- 
charge as  soon  as  their  time  was  out. 

Many  others,  hearing  of  the  good  pay  and  fine 
opportunities  in  the  merchant  service,  resolved  upon 
leaving  the  gun-boat,  and  availing  themselves  of 
them.  All  the  offers  of  "  good  billets  "  from  the  offi- 
cers, had  no  effect  on  the  men.  At  length  my  time 
was  out,  and  with  my  chum,  I  went  to  the  quar- 
ter deck,  and  asked  the  master-mate  to  speak  to  the 


256       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

Captain  for  us.  That  officer  soon  appeared,  pipe  in 
hand,  as  usual. 

"  You  want  your  discharge,  too,  I  suppose  V " 

"Yes  sir." 

"  Well,  you  are  too  fast ;  you  have  one  day  longer 
to  serve,  and  I  must  keep  you  until  the  last  minute. 
You  don't  go  till  then,  my  lads ;  I  like  you  too  well." 

"  Why,  sir,  we  thought  to-day  was  the  right  day, 
and  the  packet  sails  at  noon." 

"  Never  mind  that ;  a  packet  goes  to-morrow,  too, 
I  am  very  sorry  my  old  crew  are  leaving  ;  I  am  soon 
to  have  a  steamer,  and  want  all  my  men." 

We  left  his  presence ;  bided  our  time,  and  at  noon 
the  next  day  received  our  discharge.  In  company 
with  several  more  of  onr  shipmates,  we  were  put  on 
board  the  packet,  "  Golden  Age,"  just  in  time.  We 
waved  a  parting  farewell  to  officers,  ship,  and  men, 
as  we  left  the  harbor,  and  after  a  short,  fine  run  we 
came  in  sight  of  Fort  Warren,  passed  the  green-clad 
islands  in  the  harbor,  ran  up  to  the  schooner's  berth, 
and  once  more  walked  the  streets  of  Boston,  hale  and 
hearty. 

How  busy  everything  seemed  to  us.  Files  of  sol- 
diers were  embarking  ;  large  ships  and  steamers  were 
loading  with  troops  and  munitions  of  war,  flaming 
handbills  and  posters  announced  large  bounties  for  the 
Army,  and  many  wives  in  tears  were  following  hus- 
bands to  the  transports.  Hurry,  bustle,  oaths,  to- 
bacco smoke  and  fumes  of  poor  whiskey  were  on  every 
side.  Blue  coats  and  tearful  women,  ragged  boys  and 
pick-pockets  abounded.     Hack  drivers  pulled  us  about 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       257 

in  every  direction.  Our  little  "  music-bags  "  around 
our  necks  were  closely  guarded,  until  my  chum  and 
myself  stepped  into  a  coach  and  were  whirled  away 
to  the  railroad  station.  If  our  faces  had  not  been  set 
like  a  rock,  we  should  have  been  led  astray  ;  but  with 
cold  water  for  drink  and  clear  heads  to  guide  us,  we 
sat  in  the  cars  and  were  soon  taken  over  the  rails,  to 
our  own  homes. 


258       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 


CHAPTER    XXYI. 

Looking  for  Another  Ship — Off  for  Newbem  —  Questionable  Pat- 
riotism—  A  Race  at  Sea — Driven  by  a  Snow  Storm  —  Intense 
Cold  —  Delaware  Bay — On  Shore  —  A  Yankee  Woman  shows 
her  Colors — In  Philadelphia  —  Getting  Along  on  Short  Allow- 
ance—  A  old  Shipmate  Met  and  Provided  for' — A  Bold  Leap  — 
Home. 


*iilf  ^^^  winter  began  to  draw  on,  and  I  was  soon 
^^S  looking  for  another  ship.  Wages  were  good 
^*^s»  r"  at  coasting,  so  I  joined  a  four  hundred  ton 
schooner  that  was  to  go  to  Newbern,  N.  C,  as  soon  as 
a  load  of  coal  should  be  taken  in  at  Philadelphia,  and 
one  bitter  cold  Christmas  morning  found  me  at  the 
wheel,  bound  down  Boston  Harbor. 

Our  schooner  was  flying  light,  having  only  forty 
tons  of  sand  for  ballast,  and  we  were  glad  to  run  into 
Provincetown  harbor,  and  lay  by  for  three  days.  Ves- 
sels came  in  with  booms  broken,  and  sails  rent  in 
pieces  ;  crews  frozen,  and  decks  swept  of  everything 
moveable.  It  was  a  cheerless  prospect  for  us,  to  run 
to  the  Breakwater  in  that  vessel,  so  heavily  sparred 
and  light  handed.  We  filled  our  water-casks,  and 
had  plenty  to  eat  and  burn,  and  taking  advantage  of 
a  fair  wind,  slipped  around  Capo  Cod,  and  over  the 
shoals,  coming  to  anchor  in  Tarpaulin  Cove,  with 
the  snow  flying,  before  a  hard  Nor'-wester.  Another 
hitch,  and  we  lay  in  Dutch  Island  harbor,  witli  fine 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.       259 

weather,  where  we  scraped  spars  in  the  cold  wind,  and 
gazed  at  the  camps  of  colored  troops  on  the  land ; 
the  men  on  board  indulging  in  this  style  of  speech 
while  they  looked  at  the  shining  muskets,  and  lis- 
tened to  the  stirring  sound  of  drum  and  fife  : 

"  There,  look  at  those  black  fellows,  how  they  swell 
around  ;  they  are  to  fight  the  rebels  before  long ; 
don't  I  wish  I  was  a  soger,  instead  of  freezing  in  this 
cold  wind.  Say,  old  bayonets,  come  off  here,  and 
swap  places ;  thirty-five  dollars  a  month,  and  froze 
to  death." 

The  patriotism  of  this  man  might  be  doubted,  for 
when  I  asked  the  loud-toned  salt,  why  he  did  not  go 
and  enlist,  and  get  a  large  bounty,  he  replied,  — "  Do 
you  think  I  'd  lug  a  load  on  my  back  like  a  mule  ? 
No  sir-ee  ;  1  don't  care  which  side  licks,  for  I  live  iii 
Jersey." 

We  sailed  the  next  day,  and  raced  with  another 
vessel.  Our  gaff-topsails  were  blown  to  tatters,  and 
the  mate,  half  crazy  with  rage,  as  one  of  the  crew 
and  myself  was  securing  the  torn  and  flying  canvas, 
in  the  bitter  wind,  shouted  to  us,  —  "  Hurry  up,  you 
lazy  hounds  ;  I  'm  waiting  for  you."  We  were  both 
doing  our  best,  and  not  able  to  endure  his  insulting 
command,  I  left  all,  and  leaping  to  the  deck,  faced 
him  and  said,  "  You  will  not  wait  long  for  me,  sir, 
here  I  am."  He  then  threatened  my  life,  and  find- 
ing I  had  an  ugly  customer  to  deal  with,  I  gave  him 
to  understand  that,  though  willing  to  do  my  duty 
like  a  man,  I  would  not  be  driven  to  it  like  a  dog. 
After  this  I  went  up  and  snugly  furled  the  sail,  and 


260       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor  s  Life. 

had  no  more  words  nor  cruel  treatment  from  him 
during  the  winter. 

When  off  Fire  Island,  the  snow  began  to  fill  the 
air,  and  the  schooner  was  running  near  the  land.  I 
was  the  first  to  cry  out  "  Breakers  ahead,"  and  gave 
the  warning  in  season.  Five  vessels  and  most  of 
their  crews  perished  amid  the  mad  waves  that  night. 
The  wind  howled  fearfully,  as  we  clawed  off  from 
the  dismal  shore,  and  in  a  storm  of  snow  and  sleet 
tried  to  reach  New  York.  The  wind  came  from 
north-east  around  to  north-west,  butt-end  foremost, 
and  amid  flying  rigging,  thundering  canvas,  blind- 
ing snow,  and  total  darkness,  we  balance-reefed  the 
mainsail  and  hove  to.  The  entire  vessel  was  soon 
sheathed  in  a  thick,  white  coat  of  ice.  The  cold  was 
intense  ;  the  wind  and  snow  blinded  us,  and  the 
waves  threw  their  spray  as  high  as  the  cross-trees. 
Every  drop  of  water  turned  to  ice  as  soon  as  it  struck 
the  schooner.  Our  stoves  were  kept  red  hot,  night  and 
day.  Fifteen  minutes  was  the  longest  time  a  man 
dared  to  stay  on  deck.  The  Captain  and  mate  were 
full  of  liquor,  and  performed  their  duties  by  keeping 
as  near  the  cabin  stove  as  they  could  ;  popping  their 
heads  out  occasionally,  from  the  half-opened  compan- 
ion way,  and  in  quaking  voices,  bidding  the  men  and 
second  mate  to  keep  a  bright  lookout,  then  popped 
in  again,  and  ensconced  by  the  red  hot  stove,  tried 
to  sleep.  It  was  rather  galling  to  us  to  witness  the 
cowardly  conduct  of  those  two  men,  and  it  would 
have  done  our  hearts  good  to  have  been  able  to  force 
them  to  a  proper  performance  of  their  duties,  instead 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       261 

of  shirking  them  and  throwing  all  the  care  and  re- 
sponsibility of  the  situation  on  their  crew.  I  had 
coffee,  whiskey,  and  hot  drops  in  my  chest,  and  as 
each  man  came  from  his  freezing  station,  I  revived 
him  with  stimulants. 

Three  days  the  gale  had  howled  in  its  fury,  when, 
as  I  placed  my  hands  in  a  bucket  of  water,  I  knew 
we  were  in  the  Gulf,  or  near  the  edge  of  it.  The 
wind  suddenly  fell  away,  and  left  us  rolling  in  the 
long,  heavy  seas.  The  warm  water  soon  washed  the 
clogged  ice  from  the  hull,  and  put  our  craft  in  good 
trim.  At  night  a  light  breeze  sprang  up ;  the  fly- 
ing snow  was  gone,  and  under  three  whole  sails,  we 
worked  up  the  Jersey  shore  ;  the  long,  black  hull 
dipping  and  pitching  in  the  head  seas,  and  the  booms 
splitting  and  reeling  to-and-fro,  across  the  deck.  In 
two  days  after,  land  was  made  out,  right  ahead  ;  the 
mate  swore  like  a  pirate  when  I  told  the  Captain  that 
it  was  the  highlands  of  Neversink,  and  when  he  real- 
ized his  position,  he  paid  off  the  sheets,  and  away  we 
flew  to  the  south  and  west.  How  dreary  the  snow- 
covered  land  appears  as  the  voyager  comes  in  from 
sea,  and  how  beautiful  it  is  to  see  the  green  hills,  and 
waving  trees  as  he  approaches  the  coast.  Truly  there 
is  pleasure  in  going  to  sea,  but  the  labor  and  suffer- 
ing outweighs  it.  We  entered  Delaware  Bay  in  good 
style ;  passing  thousands  of  black  ducks  on  the 
water,  so  fat  that  they  could  hardly  fly.  As  we  en- 
tered the  mouth  of  the  river,  the  ice  began  to  impede 
our  progress,  and  when  we  arrived  at  Morris  river 
the  cakes  were  piled  up  eight  feet  high.     Among  it 


262       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 

all,  was  a  large  fleet  of  oyster  boats  and  schooners, 
and  the  only  thing  for  us  to  do  was  to  make  our  ves- 
sel fast,  and  leave  her,  for  going  up  to  Philadelphia 
by  water  was  out  of  the  question.  After  a  day's 
hard  labor,  the  vessel  was  secured  to  anchors,  and 
fastened  by  chains  to  posts  driven  in  the  mud. 

The  stage  was  ready  to  go  to  Millville,  and  after  a 
hearty  breakfast,  I  was  ready  to  start  on  the  journey. 
The  little  old  coach  could  only  accommodate  ten  per- 
sons, inside  and  out,  but  before  we  reached  the  town 
of  Millville,  there  were  twenty-two,  and  I  was  content 
to  stand  on  the  pole  of  the  team,  the  last  part  of  the 
way.  We  arrived  at  our  destination  at  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  without  any  mishap,  and  as  I  felt 
a  bit  sharkish,  with  the  long  ride  in  the  cold  air,  I 
entered  a  place  where  a  sign  of  "  Refreshments," 
was  posted,  and  jars  of  candy,  piles  of  beer-bottles, 
and  bunches  of  cigars  were  prominently  displayed. 

''  Can  you  give  me  a  dinner  ?  "  I  asked,  "  I  '11  pay 
you  well." 

"  We  don't  keep  a  sailors'  boarding-house,  here," 
answered  the  landlady. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  half  aloud,  "  if  I  was  in  Massa- 
chusetts I  could  soon  get  a  bite." 

"  Where  did  you  come  from  ? "  she  asked  in  a 
milder  tone. 

I  told  her. 

"  And  did  you  ever  go  to  the  city  of  Newbury- 
port  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  have,  and  like  it  well." 

One  remark  brought  another,  and  she  at  last  ex- 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof's  Life,       263 

claimed,  with  a  woman's  earnestness,  "  Well,  here  I 
am,  down  in  this  far-away  place,  and  it  does  me  good 
to  see  any  one  from  near  home  ;  walk  up  stairs,  and 
sit  down,  I  '11  have  dinner  in  a  few  moments." 

I  had  touched  the  right  string  in  her  harp  of  hu- 
manity, and  soon  sat  down  to  the  well-spread  table 
with  the  family. 

Before  the  meal  was  finished,  we  became  well  ac- 
quainted, and  it  turned  out  that  I  had  really  seen  her 
sister's  family  when  I  was  in  Newbury  port.  They 
would  not  take  pay  for  their  trouble,  but  as  I  left 
they  gave  me  a  fine  bunch  of  cigars,  to  smoke,  they 
said,  on  my  way  to  Camden.  I  went  to  the  depot, 
and  soon  the  iron  horse  was  tearing  over  the  rail  and 
through  the  low  lands  of  New  Jersey.  My  stay  in 
Philadelphia  was  short ;  the  river  was  full  of  ice, 
and  the  ice-boat  had  all  she  could  do  to  keep  the  fer- 
ries clear  for  the  boats  to  run.  The  night  train 
found  me  a  passenger  for  New  York,  and  I  went 
into  the  car  where  a  number  of  sailors  were  con- 
gregated, and  took  a  seat  where  I  could  hear  the  con- 
versation they  carried  on,  about  wages,  ships,  and 
jumping  bounties,  but  I  soon  settled  myself  comfort- 
ably for  a  quiet  snooze.  It  was  very  dark  outside, 
and  the  lamps  in  the  long  car  threw  their  rays  on  a 
rough  set  of  men.  I  slept  a  few  minutes,  and  was 
awakened  by  an  old  woman  with  apples,  crying  to  a 
large,  burly  Dutchman,  "Please  give  me  back  my 
apples ;  do  now,  I  can't  afford  to  lose  them."  She 
was  an  American  woman,  and  that  half-drunken 
bully  was  teasing  and  trying  to  cheat  her  out  of  a 


264       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

few  cents'  worth.  "What  if  I  had  a  mother  who  had 
to  peddle  apples  ;  supposing  that  woman  was  my 
mother,  and  perhaps  she  had  a  sailor  boy  of  her 
own.  Determined  to  see  her  rights  maintained,  I 
rose  from  my  seat,  and  proceeding  to  the  half-tipsy 
fellow,  took  hold  of  him,  demanded  that  he  should 
pay  her  well  for  every  apple  he  had  taken.  The 
Dutchman  seemed  confounded  at  my  manner,  and 
stammered  out  something  for  an  apology,  saying 
that  he  meant  no  harm,  but  my  earnestness  seemed 
to  compel  him  to  do  as  I  bid  him,  and  he  handed  out 
the.  money.  Soon  after,  he  was  approached  by  aa 
Irishman,  who  gave  him  to  understand  that  if  he  did 
not  go  into  another  car,  there  would  be  a  light,  and 
the  fellow  thinking  discretion  the  better  part  of  valor 
just  at  that  time,  tumbled  off,  in  a  rather  humiliated 
manner.  The  poor  old  apple  woman  left  us  at  Bur- 
lington, with  more  money  than  usual  in  her  purse. 

I  arrived  in  New  York  early  in  the  morning,  and 
having  relations  there,  concluded  to  spend  a  week  in 
their  society.  I  easily  found  them,  and  enjoyed  my- 
self well  for  two  weeks'  time.  The  skating  on  Cen- 
tral Park  interested  me  the  most ;  but  going  around, 
purchasing  clothing,  and  seeing  the  city,  little  inci- 
dental expenses  soon  drained  my  purse  to  a  small 
amount,  and  home  I  must  go,  or  send  on  for  funds. 
My  friends  wanted  me  to  remain  in  the  city  and  go 
into  business  with  them,  but  city  trading  I  cared  little 
about,  so  I  stepped  on  the  steamer  for  Fall  River. 
There  I  fell  in  with  an  old  shipmate,  who  had  no 
money,  and  not  a  crumb  to  eat ;  I  shared  my  money 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       265 

with  him,  and  then  took  my  chance  of  dead-heading 
mj  way  on  the  steamer.  This  was  the  only  time  I 
ever  was  what  is  called  "  hard  up,"  and  I  was  bound 
to  make  the  best  of  it  and  go  through  if  possible.  My 
baggage  went  on  to  Boston ;  I  had  the  checks,  and 
was  easy  on  that  head,  but  how  to  leave  the  boat 
when  every  one  of  the  Irish  deck  hands  was  watching 
me,  was  u  problem  I  had  yet  to  solve.  Ten  or  fifteen 
dead-heads  were  taken  and  sent  to  unload  the  cargo 
when  the  steamer  touched  her  wharf.  My  two  Irish 
guards  were  walking  around  me  and  saying,  "  We 
will  take  him  back  to  New  York."  And  I  said  to 
myself,  "  if  I  can't  give  these  fellows  the  slip  I  ought 
to  go  back."  Watching  my  chance,  I  made  a  daring 
leap,  and  landed  on  the  wharf.  They  dared  not  fol- 
low me  in  that  fashion,  and  I  stepped  into  the  cabin 
of  the  Providence  steamer,  and  the  next  moment  she 
cast  off  her  shore  fasts,  and  I  was  spe'eding  up  Narra- 
gansett  Bay. 

I  reached  Providence  in  good  time,  strolled  about 
the  city,  and  then  took  my  seat  in  the  night  train  for 
the  good  old  capital  of  the  Bay  State.  The  lightning 
seemed  to  be  hitched  to  the  train,  for  we  went  through 
the  darkness  like  a  comet,  and  though  I  am  fond  of 
rapidity  in  all  things,  I  must  confess  that  I  shook 
some  at  our  style  of  travelling  that  night.  At  a  late 
hour  the  cars  entered  the  Boston  depot.  No  coach 
was  ready  for  me  this  time,  and  on  foot  I  threaded 
the  dark  streets  until  I  found  a  seat,  in  the  last  horse 
car  for  Lynn.  I  was  going  home  where  I  was  always 
welcome,  with  plenty  of  garments  and  only  a  few  cents 


266       Seven  Years  of  a  SaitSns  Life, 

in  my  pocket.  This  was  my  secojid  uillucky  trip,  but 
I  felt  tip-top  in  spirit,  and  determined  to  rest  a  while 
and  then  plunge  into  my  roving  life  £^gain. 

Over  the  bleak  waste  the  horses  toiled,  and  at  length 
the  places  and  scenes  around  began  to  look  familiar. 
I  jumped  off,  and  plodded  down  the  street  until  I 
reached  the  house,  and  not  wishing  to  awaken  any  one, 
I  raised  the  back  window  and  entered.  Woiselessly  I 
lit  a  lamp  and  looked  at  the  clock ;  it  was  just  one. 
I  soon  made  myself  at  home  so  far  as  to  forage  round 
and  find  something  good  and  wholesome  with  which 
to  make  my  early  meal ;  then,  in  the  warm  sitting- 
room,  spread  myself  on  the  floor  and  was  soon  in  the 
land  of  dreams,  where  I  remained  until  the  daylight 
peeped  in  at  the  windows,  and  astonished  the  family 
with  my  unexpected  presence. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,      267 


CHAPTER    XXYII. 

Merry  Times  at  Home  —  I  am  Bound  to  Go-a- Fishing  —  The 
"  We  're  Here  "  —  Cape  Cod  Again  —  A  Narrow  Escape  —  Using 
Up  the  Salt  —  Waking  the  Skipper  —  Fisherman's  Life  —  The 
"Texas"  —  In  a  Fog — Is  that  a  Privateer?  —  Home  Life  on 
the  Cape  —  The  Cod  Fisheries — How  They  are  Conducted  — 
The  Profits  —  Superiority  of  American  Fishing  Craft  —  The 
•*  Marietta  "  —  Quick  Work. 

WO  or  three  weeks  passed  swiftly  by,  with 
dances  and  surprise  parties  every  night,  and 
folks  said,  "  Ned  goes  it  while  he  is  young. 
We  don't  blame  him ;  he  enjoys  everything  that  is  go- 
ing, and  has  a  large  crowd  of  friends."  And  "  go 
it "  I  did,  to  every  place  where  my  fancy  called  me  ;  a 
"  hail  fellow  well  met,"  and  in  duty  bound  to  enjoy 
life  to  its  fullest  scope. 

The  merchant,  man-of-war,  and  coasting  service  I 
had  tried,  and  now  I  was  to  dip  into  fishing.  The 
snow  was  running  down  the  hills  in  a  thousand  rivu- 
lets, melted  by  the  warm  April  sun,  when  I  doffed 
the  citizen  ^s  garments,  and  put  on  the  fisherman's 
suit,  big  boots  and  all.  The  tenth  of  April  found  me 
on  the  deck  of  the  "  We're  Here,"  bending  sail  and 
taking  in  sea  stores  and  the  little  extras  that  make 
up  a  fishing  outfit. 

We  sailed  from  Beverly  with  a  fair  wind  and  pleas- 
ant weather,  and  that  night  came  to  anchor  off  Har- 
wich, Cape  Cod.     Most  of  the  crew  belonged  there, 


268       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

and  they  soon  had  two  dories  manned,  and  pulled  for 
the  shore.  As  I  stood  by  watching  operations,  the 
old  skipper  shouted,  "  Take  good  care  of  the  vessel ; 
we  '11  be  oJBf  in  less  than  a  week,  Ned ! " 

"  Well,  here  we  are,"  said  a  friend  at  my  elbow, 
"  and  likely  to  hang  out  tough.  I  expect  they  will 
do  up  all  their  farming  before  they  sail." 

He  "expected"  just  right.  We  laid  back  and 
took  solid  comfort,  and  it  was  gay  old  times  to  us, 
keeping  bachelor's -ship  off  Deep  Hole.  On  the  night 
of  the  third  day  after  the  vessel  anchored,  it  began  to 
blow  heavy,  and  at  midnight  came  a  gale,  dead  on 
shore.  We  went  stumbling  forward  in  the  darkness, 
and  made  the  jib-sheets  fast,  cleared  the  port-anchor 
and  cable,  hoisted  the  jib,  which  slatted  and  shook 
like  the  crack  of  doom,  and  when  the  vessel  was  well 
cut  away  to  port,  let  the  second  anchor  go,  and  mado 
all  snug,  the  equal  strain  on  both  anchors  holding  the 
vessel  firm  in  spite  of  wind  and  wave.  At  daylight 
the  anxious  skipper  and  crew  were  hurriedly  pacing 
the  wave-lashed  strand,  there  we  lay  all  secure,  and 
had  not  drifted  a  fathom.  Seeing  which  they  felt 
satisfied,  and  left  us  alone  in  our  glory. 

We  were  getting  tired  of  laying  at  anchor  off  the 
bar,  while  they  were  having  social  times  ashore,  and 
throwing  the  last  dory  overboard  we  soon  landed  on 
the  beach,  and  made  our  way  over  cranberry  meadows 
and  dyked  land,  to  the  only  hotel  the  little  town 
could  boast  of.  We  took  supper  and  were  astonished 
at  the  rations  set  before  us,  which  consisted  of  two 
cups  of  tea,  two  slices  of  bread  and  some  butter. 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life.      269 

"  Dollar  and  fifteen  cents  is  the  bill,''  said  the  host- 
ess. 

"Well,  you  are  as  kind  as  a  mother,"  said  I, 
"  I  'm  far  more  hungry  than  when  I  began." 

"  Willing  to  oblige  you  to  anything  in  my  line," 
snapped  out  the  lady,  "  but  we  are  all  out  of  stores 
just  now." 

We  walked  up  the  street,  and  turning  a  corner 
came  plump  on  the  skipper,  who,  with  his  head  in 
advance  of  his  body,  was  making  the  sand  fly  as  he 
stumbled  over  the  cart-ruts  and  beaten  tracks. 

"  Hullo,  my  lad,  where  did  ye  spring  from  ?" 

"  Oh,  we  're  boarding  at  the  hotel." 

"  Ye  haint  though.  I  want  ye  to  come  an'  live  in. 
the  house  I  stop  at,  if  ye  must  be  ashore  half  of  the 
time,  'sides,  I  got  sum  land  to  scratch  over,  an'  per- 
haps you'd  like  to  take  holt." 

That  was  just  what  we  wanted.  He  took  us  home, 
made  us  members  of  the  family,  and  with  willing 
hands  and  merry  hearts  his  spring  planting  was  done 
in  two  days.  We  then  went  aboard  the  schooner. 
The  water  was  taken  in,  the  anchor  cleared,  and  the 
vessel  under  weigh  in  quick  time.  The  harbor  tide- 
rips  and  land  were  left  behind,  and  as  the  skies  in 
the  West  were  mottled  in  crimson  and  gold,  away  we 
went  out  upon  the  blue  sea.  Nothing  of  importance 
occurred  during  our  run  on,  until  we  arrived  oh  the 
Western  Banks.  There  we  tried  for  fish,  and  sailed 
day  by  day,  but  finding  them  scarce,  off  wo  started 
to  the  eastward.  On  one  occasion  when  my  watch 
was  below,  I  was  suddenly  aroused  from  a  deep,  re- 


270       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life, 

freshing  sleep,  by  shouts,  and  confusion  on  deck.  A 
turn  and  a  jump  was  taken,  and  looking  to  wind- 
ward of  our  vessel,  I  saw  a  large  steamship  rushing 
upon  us,  lights  gleamed,  men  screamed,  and  a  crash 
seemed  inevitable.  Our  wheel  was  hove  up;  the 
huge  mountain  of  wood  and  iron  was  nearly  on  us, 
but  the  next  moment  we  had  slipped  out  of  her  way. 
How  the  air  rushed  past  our  ears,  as  the  huge  fabric 
swept  by,  not  slackening  her  speed  in  the  least. 

It  was  the  first  of  May  when  we  came  to  anchor  on 
Bank  Quereau,  and  found  fish  plenty,  but  small. 
"  Half  a  loaf  is  better  than  no  bread,"  and  at  work  we 
went.  I  was  green  then,  but  before  long  I  earned 
the  title  of  "high  line,"  and  though  I  had  many  diffi- 
culties to  overcome,  I  caught  nearly  five  thousand 
codfish  that  trip.  When  I  had  doubled  that  number, 
the  seasons  that  followed,  I  was  almost  determined 
to  be  "  a  banker  "  for  life,  but  subsequently  changed 
my  mind. 

After  a  while  the  cook  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  salt  was  not  wet  fast  enough,  and  as  the  thought 
of  a  rebel  privateer  came  upon  him,  he  hurried  it 
over  the  side  every  time  the  skipper  was  at  supper. 
He  remarked  to  us,  as  the  salt  was  emptied  out  of 
the  passing  tubs,  "You  see  I  gets  so  much  by  the 
trip,  and  the  sooner  I  got  home,  the  better  for  all  on 
us." 

There  were  two  brothers  on  board,  smart,  and  jolly 
fishermen,  who  enjoyed  a  quiet  snooze  in  the  warm 
forecastle,  when  they  should  have  been  pacing  the 
deck,  with  eyes  wide  open.     The  skipper  had  often 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       271 

noticed  that  the  light  at  the  gaff  had  died  out,  or 
that  a  chimney  was  broken,  and  at  length  he  caught 
the  midnight  watchers,  snug  and  asleep,  with  a  large, 
empty  dish  on  the  table  in  front  of  them.  Buckets  of 
water  had  no  other  effect  than  to  put  more  salt  over 
the  rail,  and  less  fish  on  board.  The  great  desire  of 
our  men,  was  to  see  the  last  of  the  salt  disappear, 
and  sheet  the  sails  taut  for  home  again. 

Our  skipper  was  a  hard  man  to  rouse  from  his 
sleep,  and  often  when  I  called  him,  he  would  "  lay 
and  soak "  in  pleasant  dreams.  One  night,  after  I 
had  called  three  times  without  awakening  him,  I 
shouted  loudly  in  his  ear, —  "Skipper,  Skipper — I 
say.  Skipper,  heave  out." 

Half  frightened  out  of  his  wits,  he  nervously  re- 
plied— "  Yes,  yes,  yes ;  0,  Lord,  I'm  coming,  com- 
ing.    Speak,  what's  the  matter  i" 

He  must  have  thought  we  were  going  to  Davy 
Jones'  locker,  but  I  soon  calmed  his  fears  by  saying, 
"Why,  your  watch,  of  course;  this  is  the  fourth 
time  I  've  called  you." 

"  Bless  me,  I  never  was  so  startled  in  my  life  ;  don't 
do  it  again." 

"  No,  don't  yell  like  that  in  this  cabin,"  said  a 
man  behind  me,  "  for  I  have  the  heart  disease." 

"Never  mind  my  friend,"  I  added,  "you  are 
alive,  and  likely  to  be,"  and  as  his  feet  struck  the 
wet  deck,  I  kicked  the  heavy  clog  boots  from  my 
own,  and  was  soon  snugly  stowed  away  under  the 
quilts.  The  skipper  always  turned  out  after  that,  at 
the  first  touch  or  call. 


272       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailors  Life, 

Fishing  in  fleets,  on  deck,  in  dories,  or  laying  still 
until  good  weather  came  to  us  again,  formed  the  regu- 
lar routine  of  our  duty.  We  dressed  down  and  wash- 
ed up,  ate,  slept,  and  watched,  day  and  night,  until 
the  last  ton  of  salt  had  been  wet,  and  then  with  merry 
hearts  we  joined  tlie  old  "  Texas ;"  set  our  main  sail, 
and  both  vessels,  with  colors  flying,  left  the  fishing 
ground  and  fleet  of  dories  behind. 

The  mild,  easterly  breeze  wafted  us  to  the  west- 
ward, and  that  night  the  sun  set  clear,  it  being  but 
the  fourth  time  it  had  done  so  during  the  ten  weeks 
of  our  trip.  Nearly  every  day  the  weather  had  been 
foggy  j  the  heavy  mist  occasionally  lifting  for  about 
an  hour  at  a  time.  The  consequence  of  this  was, 
that  every  bunk  and  chest  was  wet,  and  the  standing 
.rigging  was  colored  a  sickly  green.  Fog  and  cold 
are  disagreeable  companions,  especially  when  one  is 
obliged  to  associate  with  them  for  twelve  or  fourteen 
weeks,  at  anchor  on  the  high  table  lands  of  the  Grand 
Banks.  We  jogged  along  towards  our  destined  port, 
and  when  off  Halifax,  N.  S.,  saw  a  low,  black  steamer 
steering  straight  towards  us.  The  skipper  was  nervous 
and  fidgety.  "Oh,  that 's  one  of  them  privateers. 
I  '11  lose  my  summer's  work."  Then  addressing  me, 
he  continued, —  "  We  're  all  right,  I  reckon  ;  they'll 
hang  you  to  the  yard  arm,  Ned,  'cause  you  have  went 
against  them,  but  will  let  us  go,  sure." 

The  sharesmen  were  all  looking  at  the  steamer 
that  lay  just  ahead,  as  though  she  would  board  us, 
but  after  lying  still  a  few  moments,  she  put  on  steam 
and  soon  left  us  alone. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       273 

"  Hurrah,"  shouted  the  overjoyed  skipper,  "  She 
wouldn't  touch  a  little  fisherman,  nor  any  poor  folks 
like  us,"  and  he  cut  a  flourish  on  the  quarter,  with 
his  stiff  old  legs. 

We  all  felt  relieved  when  she  had  disappeared,  and 
two  days  after,  we  dropped  our  anchor  once  more, 
off  Deep  Hole.  The  gay  flag  flew  from  the  little  top- 
mast ;  the  crew  had  a  good  wash  in  fresh  water  ; 
dories  were  pushed  over  the  side,  and  the  men,  with 
happy  hearts,  dressed  in  their  best,  pulled  quickly 
ashore.  Those  who  remained,  myself  among  the 
number,  laid  on  the  house  sunning  themselves,  and 
drinking  in  the  beauty  of  the  shore,  with  its  neat 
and  pretty  houses,  waving  pines,  and  familiar  objects 
that  caught  their  eyes,  then  hauled  the  ropes  taut, 
cleared  the  decks,  and  were  snug  and  comfortable. 
The  next  day  we  went  ashore,  and  met  the  men  in 
checked  shirts  and  black  pants,  their  countenances 
wreathed  in  smiles,  their  happy,  young  wives  cling- 
ing lovingly  on  their  arms,  and  seeming  well  pleased, 
as  they  looked  up  with  eyes  full  of  love  and  adora- 
tion, into  the  faces  of  their  returned  husbands,  who 
puffed  their  cigars  in  a  gentlemanly  style.  Nothing 
was  too  good  for  us  young  bachelors,  and  we  had 
cordial  welcomes  every  where  we  went.  Each  day 
some  new  and  entertaining  feature  of  Cape  life  pre- 
sented itself,  and  the  true  sociality,  genuine  kindness, 
and  unmistakable  warmth  of  friendship,  which  char- 
acterizes the  inhabitants  of  that  locality,  so  favor- 
ably impressed  us,  that  when  the  time  for  leaving 
drew  nigh,  we  regretted  its   approach;  but  go  we 


274       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

must.  We  bade  our  friends  good  bye,  and  on  the 
20th  of  August  we  hove  the  anchor  to  the  hawse-pipe, 
and  left  Deep  Hole,  bound  for  Beverly,  where  we  arrived 
safe  the  next  morning,  and  made  the  vessel  fast  to  her 
wharf.  I  was  not  long  in  reaching  my  home,  and  the 
next  day  went  back  to  receive  my  pay,  which  proved 
quite  satisfactory.  But  better  to  me  than  the  money 
I  had  earned,  was  the  health  I  had  regained.  I  was 
once  more  hale  and  hearty,  and  ready  to  go  again  as 
soon  as  I  could  find  a  good  chance. 

Cod  fishing  is  a  great  business  for  Massachusetts 
Bay.  Hundreds  of  vessels  are  employed,  and  thous- 
ands of  men  pass  their  summers  on  the  foggy  banks, 
among  icebergs,  danger  and  schools  of  fish.  Each 
vessel's  company  usually  consists  of  a  skipper  who 
is  entitled  to  one  whole  share  of  the  profits  of  the  trip, 
which  counts  up  to  about  a  thousand  dollars  ;  two 
sharesmen  who  hold  half  a  share  each,  being  from 
four  to  six  hundred  dollars,  and  a  number  of  men  and 
boys,  who  are  hired,  and  receive  from  fifty  to  two  hun- 
dred dollars  a  piece,  according  to  their  smartness  in 
catching  fish.  Thus,  the  first  year  I  received  eighty 
dollars  clear  of  expenses.  The  next  trip,  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty,  and  the  next,  two  hundred  and 
seventy  dollars,  and  each  season  my  wages  advanced, 
because  I  was  putting  more  money  into  the  owner's 
pocket  every  year  I  went,  and  "  high  line  men,"  as 
they  are  called,  have  fine  chances  to  obtain  good 
wages.  If  a  Captain  has  a  man  who  is  smart,  that 
man's  good  name  will  travel  from  Nova  Scotia  to 
New  London.  His  name  will  be  his  recommenda- 
tion to  the  skippers. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       275 

Fishing  is  a  science  now-a-days  ;  the  old  style  of 
carrying  it  on  is  rapidly  fading  away,  before  dories 
and  double  trawls,  squib-gigs,  capling,  fly  and  top 
water  lines,  driving  and  penning,  prepared  bait, 
patent  hooks  and  gear,  and  enterprising  men  con- 
stantly on  the  alert  for  new  methods  of  operation. 
The  lumbering  old  boats  with  dirty  decks  and  poor 
rigging,  bad  food  and  crowded  cabins,  are  being 
transformed  into  sand  barges  and  freighters ;  and 
the  sharp,  new,  roomy  clippers  take  their  places,  well 
found  in  everything,  and  carrying  a  new  dory  for  each 
man.  Time,  men  and  fish  are  saved,  the  profits  are 
larger,  and  money  is  earned  easier.  What  a  con- 
trast is  the  present  clipper  banker,  shooting  over  the 
wild  ocean,  fast  and  safe,  making  the  run  on  and  off 
the  Banks  in  a  week,  to  the  old  bluff-bowed  bully-hoo, 
that  was  often  thirty  days  going  or  coming,  or  to  the 
clumsy  French  ships  and  brigs,  that  are  trawling  on 
the  Bank.  Yerily,  the  American  fishermen,  like  the 
American  Navy,  can  beat  the  world.  Look  at  our 
whaling  fleet,  it  astonishes  every  one,  —  chasing  the 
leviathan  of  the  deep  amid  polar  ice,  and  torrid  heat, 
and  traversing  the  ocean  from  pole  to  pole.  Steamers, 
whaling  guns,  and  every  ingenious  contrivance  that 
man  can  devise,  is  in  the  hands  of  the  sons  of  New 
England. 

But,  weary  of  the  land,  I  looked  up  another  craft, 
and  soon  found  the  Marietta,  a  staunch  vessel, 
bound  for  the  Grand  Banks  of  Newfoundland.  I  was 
told  that  the  skipper  was  tyrannical  to  his  men,  but 
determined  upon  knowing  the  truth  in  regard  to  him, 


276       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

and  taking  no  man's  say-so  as  evidence,  I  walked  up 
to  the  tall,  bony  individual  who  was  hurriedly  pac- 
ing the  newly  painted  deck. 

"  Good  day,  skipper,"  I  said. 

"  Who  in  the  devil  are  you  ? "  he  rather  bluntly 
inquired,  as  he  came  to  a  full  stop  in  his  walk. 

"  I  want  a  chance  to  ship,  and  hearing  that  you  are 
bound  off  soon,  I  have  come  to  see  if  you  will  not 
give  me  one." 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  you  hear  lies  enough  about 
me  on  shore,  and  men  talk  very  hard  sometimes." 

''  Yes,"  said  I,  "  but  the  devil  is  never  quite  so 
black  as  he  is  represented  to  be." 

He  seemed  to  take  this  as  a  compliment,  for  he 
seated  himself  calmly  on  the  rail,  remarking,  "  Now 
I  like  that  in  you ;  and  I  '11  give  you  one  hundred 
and  seventy  dollars,  clear,  if  you  '11  go.  Somehow  I 
rather  take  to  you ;  I  thought  at  first  you  was  a  city 
swell  come  down  to  see  my  vessel.  If  you  will  go, 
come  down  and  sign  the  articles." 

This  occurred  at  quarter  past  eleven  in  the  fore- 
noon. In  an  hour's  time  I  had  shipped,  signed 
articles,  taken  leave  of  home  and  returned  to  the 
schooner,  and  at  one  o'clock  had  finished  my  dinner, 
cast  the  fast  from  the  wharf,  and  was  gliding  down  the 
harbor  on  my  way  to  the  ocean.  Such  quick  work 
was  not  often  done,  and  I  soon  saw  that  I  was  all 
right  with  "  bully  Tom,"  as  the  men  were  pleased  to 
call  the  skipper. 

I  started  to  put  my  luggage  away  in  the  forecastle, 
but  was  warned  by  one  of  the  crew  that  a  "  crazy 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,      277 

drunken  man  was  there,  and  nobody  dared  go 
down." 

"  Somebody  must  "be  the  first  to  go,"  I  answered, 
*'  and  here  goes."  I  pushed  back  the  slides  and  de- 
scended the  steep  steps.  Yells,  curses,  and  hard  lan- 
guage saluted  me.  A  man,  half  naked,  crazy  drunk, 
and  frightful  to  look  at,  stood  before  me. 

"  What  are  ye  here  for  ?  Go  away,  you  devil ; 
aint  you  afraid  of  me  ? " 

"  Not  much,"  I  answered,  "  get  up  in  this  bunk, 
and  lie  down." 

He  would  not ;  so  I  tried  to  put  him  in,  and  after  a 
hard  scuffle  succeeded  in  doing  so.  In  a  drunken 
rage  he  raised  himself,  and  struck  his  head  on  the 
hard  beam,  when,  stunned  by  the  blow,  he  pitched 
over  the  ^unk-board  and  tumbled  on  to  the  tabic.  He 
was  all  right  then.  I  secured  his  knife,  covered  his 
face  with  a  wet  cloth,  and  when  he  awoke  he  was 
sober. 


278       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 


CHAPTER    XXYIII. 

There  He  Winds  Her  — Our  New  Cook  and  His  Reception  —  The 
Girls  of  Castine  — A  "  Post  "  that  Spoke  —  Off  for  the  Banks  — 
Good  Fishing  —  Something  of  an  Iceberg  —  A  Yankee  School- 
master Shoots  a  Whale  —  The  Dory  Fleets  —  Eight  Hundred 
Boats  at  Work  —  Lively  Times  on  the  Banks  —  After  a  Shark  — 
Loss  of  the  "  Widow  Wadman  '.'  —  Perils  of  the  Fishermen  — 
Pulling  for  Life  in  a  Dory  —  Saved  at  the  Last  Moment  —  Loaded 
with  Fish  and  Homeward  Bound. 


iW^  E    passed  the  beacon,  and  glided  down  the 

A|^X  narrow  channel,  jibbed  the  main  boom,  and 

^P^  flew  on  to  the  broad  bay.     "  There  he  winds 

her,"  was  shouted  by  the  group  on  shore,  and  echoed 

back  by  the  men  sitting  on  the  windlass. 

Three  or  four  of  our  crew  were  a  little  the  worse 
for  liquor,  and  when  darkness  began  to  hide  the  shore, 
there  was  a  general  cry  of  "  who  will  get  supper." 
Nobody  wanted  to  do  the  cooking,  yet  all  were  ready 
to  eat.  We  had  no  cook.  That  important  personage 
was  to  be  shipped,  when  the  vessel  arrived  down  East. 
I  knew  I  could  cook ;  so  did  many  others,  and  natur- 
ally the  duty  fell  to  me.  I  went  to  the  fo'castle,  and 
there  sat  the  late  crazy  man,  filling  his  pipe.  "  Hul- 
lo, old  feller,"  he  cried,  "  going  to  give  me  some  sup- 
per ?  Haint  had  anything  for  two  days  ;  feel  as  if  I 
could  eat  the  head  from  a  ten-inch  bolt.  Say,  let  me 
help  you."     I  declined  his  aid,  and  told  him  to  go  to 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailo'^s  Life.       279 

his  berth,  and  in  proper  time  he  should  have  his 
share. 

"  Well,  have  it  so  if  you  want  to.  I  b'lieve  all  the 
other  men  are  'fraid  of  me,  but  you  are  not.  So 
here  goes  till  supper  time,"  and  he  tumbled  into  the 
first  bunk  that  came  handy. 

I  set  about  cooking  supper  by  the  aid  of  a  flaming 
lamp,  and  in  an  hour's  time  had  the  table  covered 
with  substantial  food.  The  first  table  was  filled  by 
the  Captain  and  five  other  men,  including  the  terror 
of  the  fo'castle,  who  ate  ravenously,  and  myself;  then 
I  set  a  second  table  for  the  others.  They  prolonged 
their  meal  until  nine  o'clock  at  night,  and  I  was  glad 
to  turn  into  my  new  berth  as  soon  as  I  had  cleared 
the  wreck  and  washed  the  dishes.  As  I  took  a  pull 
at  the  pipe,  I  said  to  one  of  the  men,  —  "  Brown,  you 
get  the  men's  breakfast  in  the  morning,  and  I  '11  get 
the  dinner."  ''  I  shan't  cook ;  did  n't  ship  for  cook, 
and  hate  to  handle  pots  and  pans,  let  somebody  else," 
he  moodily  answered. 

"  All  right,"  said  I,  "  mind  you  get  breakfast  in 
the  morning,"  and  turning  my  face  from  the  light,  I 
was  soon  in  the  land  of  dreams. 

At  four  in  the  morning  I  took  the  wheel.  Cape 
Elizabeth  light,  bore  North,  about  six  miles  from  us. 
The  vessel  was  rushing  straight  for  Penobscot  Bay, 
sheets  eased  off  and  sails  all  hard  filled  with  the  strong 
Sou'-westerly  wind.  I  looked  under  the  booms,  and 
saw  the  smoke  pouring  from  the  cook's  stove.  Ah, 
yes.  Brown  had  slightly  changed  his  mind,  and  at 
seven  o'clock  a  good  hot  breakfast  awaited  us.     Be- 


280       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

fore  noon  we  were  running  up  the  beautiful  bay,  past 
Owl's  Head,  to  Castine.  The  tide  being  against  us, 
we  anchored,  to  remain  until  its  turn.  The  skipper 
and  four  others  took  a  dory  and  went  to  the  town, 
the  former  saying,  as  he  left,  "  I  expect  to  see  this 
schooner  at  anchor  off  the  town  in  the  morning,  Ned." 

Midnight  came  with  squalls,  and  a  dash  of  rain. 
*'  Turn  out  here,  fellows,"  I  shouted,  "  fair  wind  and 
tide  ;  tumble  up  if  you  want  to  be  in  town  to-morrow. 
Strap  the  third-reef  cringle  to  the  boom,  and  loose 
the  jib.  Pump  her  up.  Charley,  you  to  the  wheel, 
and  I  '11  take  the  lead." 

The  men  did  not  fancy  the  rain  and  pitchy  dark- 
ness, but  soon  the  craft  was  gliding  up  the  river. 
The  casts  of  the  lead  were  satisfactory,  and  we  anchor- 
ed her  off  the  town  within  ten  rods  of  the  steamboat 
wharf,  and  then  retired  to  the  cabin  to  smoke  and  yarn 
away  the  time  till  daylight  appeared.  The  skipper 
sent  a  carcass  of  veal  aboard,  and  our  new  cook  made 
his  appearance,  with  a  large  jug  of  whiskey  in  one 
hand,  and  small  stores  and  an  accordeon  in  the  other. 
Then  began  drinking  and  fighting.  The  man  before 
alluded  to  as  rum  crazy  when  I  first  saw  him,,  when 
sober  was  a  good  fellow,  but  the  taste  of  liquor  set 
him  in  a  blaze.  He  grappled  with  a  large  Scotchman, 
and  the  two  had  it  out  under  the  table.  The  cook, 
who  was  full  of  whiskey,  tried  to  part  them,  when  the 
crazy  man  dropped  his  first  antagonist  and  tackled 
on  to  him.  The  poor  cook  remonstrated, —  "  I  won't 
have  any  fighting  in  my  own  dominions,",  but  the 
crazy  man  threw  him  in  a  heap  behind  the  stove,  and 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life,       281 

no  more  did  the  cook  assert  his  rights.  The  Scotch- 
man, full  of  revenge,  again  pitched  into  the  crazy 
man,  when  springing  from  the  bunk  in  which  I  had 
lain  and  seen  this  rough  play,  I  cried :  "  Hold  up ; 
you  have  fought  enough ; ''  and  then  parted  the  two 
without  a  blow. 

It  may  appear  singular  that  an  end  of  the  struggle 
was  so  easily  effected,  but  from  some  cause,  I  have 
always  possessed  a  strange  power  on  such  occasions 
and  have  been  able  to  separate  men  and  animals. 
My  experience  has  taught  me  that  though  physical 
force  may  be  at  times  essential,  the  power  of  the  eye 
and  the  tone  of  the  voice  are  much  superior. 

It  was  well  that  the  wages  I  received  enabled  me  to 
dress  neatly  for  shore  life,  for  rough  sea  clothes  are 
rather  unshapely  on  land.  The  others  of  the  crew 
congratulated  themselves  on  like  privileges,  and,  to- 
gether we  roamed  about  town.  Castine  is  pleasantly 
situated  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Penobscot  River, 
and  a  place  of  some  note.  We  went  to  church  in 
the  afternoon  of  Sabbath  days,  and  prayer  meeting 
in  the  evening,  to  see  others  and  be  seen  ourselves. 
We  could  sing  every  hymn  that  the  preacher  read, 
and  looked  hard  at  the  fair  daughters  of  Maine,  when 
they  peeped  at  us  through  tlieir  fingers  during  divine 
worship.  One  night  I  went  to  church  alone,  and 
when  the  services  were  over  and  I  had  almost  reached 
the  door,  a  splendid  little  sunny  head  was  at  my  side. 
I  crooked  my  right  fin,  and  the  little  clipper  hooked 
on  immediately.  I  looked  over  my  shoulder  and 
another  lass  had  me  by  my  left  arm  ;  two  more  had 


282       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 

hold  of  my  coat  tails.  It  was  a  preconcerted  plan, 
but  I  bore  up  as  nobly  as  I  could,  and  escorted  them 
to  their  homes.  The  last  young  lady  that  walked 
with  me  arrived  at  her  little  gate.  It  was  a  dark, 
starless  night,  and  the  only  object  I  could  discover, 
was  what  appeared  to  be  a  black  post  in  front  of  the 
door. 

"  Hush,"  said  my  companion,  "  there  is  my  mother, 
she  '11  hear  you." 

"  I  don't  see  anything  but  a  long,  black  post,"  I 
answered,  and  then  the  post  spoke. 

"  If  you  don't  come  in  directly.  Miss,  you  '11  not 
go  to  another  evening  meetin'." 

"  Oh,  I  must  go ;  good  night,  sir ;  "  and  away  ran 
the  obedient  girl  into  the  house. 

The  three  weeks  passed  at  Castine  are  numbered 
among  the  most  pleasant  of  my  life.  At  length  a  fair 
wind  came,  we  ran  up  the  sails,  slipped  our  fasts,  and 
away  we  went  with  flying  colors.  We  reached  the 
Grand  Banks  in  nine  days,  and  immediately  struck  on 
large  fish.  The  dories  were  soon  afloat,  every  man 
did  his  best,  and  that  night,  twenty-five  hundred  cod- 
fish were  ready  to  be  dressed  down.  "  Come  on,throat- 
ers  and  headers,  fly  round,  or  we  shan't  get  through 
to-night,"  was  the  word  about  deck. 

Fish  came  tumbling  in,  boat  loads  every  day.  Only 
the  best  men  fished,  and  the  ambition  of  each  was  to 
bring  aboard  the  largest  number.  We  lay  directly  on 
the  track  of  vessels  bound  over  the  Banks,  and  in  spite 
of  horns,  bell,  and  conch  shell,  came  very  near  being 
run  down.    The  "  Great  Eastern  "  passed  so  close  to 


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Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       283 

us  that  we  saw  her  masts  and  hull ;  her  steam  whistles 
were  blowing  like  those  of  a  dozen  locomotives.  She 
was  moving  slowly,  feeling  her  way  carefully  through 
the  thick  fog. 

The  next  day  we  weighed  anchor  and  left  that 
place  ;  it  was  too  risky  a  position  to  remain  in  longer, 
for  the  Liverpool  packets  might  walk  right  over  us. 
We  went  bounding  and  dipping  on  our  way,  when 
one  of  the  men  cried  out,  "  What's  that,  Ned  ? " 
and  pointed  up  in  the  air.  I  looked  and  shouted, 
"  Heave  up  your  wheel,  we  're  right  upon  an  ice- 
berg ! " 

The  mist  that  hung  over  us  like  a  funeral  pall, 
rolled  away  for  a  moment,  and  disclosed  one  of  the 
terrors  of  northern  seas  ;  a  huge  mountain  of  ice 
aground,  being  two  hundred  feet  under  water  and 
over  four  hundred  out,  looming  high  in  the  hazy 
air,  a  fair  sample  of  an  iceberg.  The  air  was  very 
cold  on  the  lee  side  of  the  ice,  and  if  a  vessel  struck 
it,  there  could  be  no  hope  of  escape  in  the  thick,  heavy 
weather  we  were  then  experiencing.  The  sad  tale 
that  hundreds  of  men  would  tell  could  they  walk  the 
earth  again,  would  be,  "  Our  vessel  struck  an  iceberg 
in  the  fog  one  night,  and  foundered.  Of  the  passen- 
gers and  crew,  some  were  lost  at  the  moment,  others 
reached  the  berg,  froze  to  death  and  rolled  off,  until  at 
length,  every  one  perished." 

Still  we  "  fished  and  made  berths  ; "  sometimes 
striking  adrift  and  losing  anchors,  and  at  other  times 
lying  on  the  calm  water.  One  day  the  sun  broke  out 
in  all  his  glory.     The  "  Rock's  Fleet "  was  in  sight, 


284       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

and  near  us  was  a  dead  whale  floating  on  the  water. 
This  whale  was  killed  by  the  chance  shot  of  a  Yankee 
school  master,  wlio  fired  a  rifle,  having  no  idea  that 
it  would  touch  a  vital  spot.  A  wandering  whaler 
found  the  dead  carcass  a  few  days  after,  and  it  yielded 
thirty  barrels  of  oil.  The  pedagogue  went  to  the 
Grand  Banks  a  sick,  slender  man  ;  he  returned  in  the 
same  vessel,'  strong  and  well,  and  in  good  firm  flesh. 
There  is  no  place  like  the  Banks  for  making  known 
to  a  person  his  fate ;  death  soon  comes,  or  it  will  keep 
away  for  years.  I  went  on  one  trip,  weighing  ninety 
pounds,  and  returned  home  in  less  than  four  months, 
weighing  one  hundred  and  forty-five  poimds,  and 
have  seldom  seen  a  sick  day  when  on  salt  water. 

There  was  nothing  to  greet  the  eye,  but  fog,  fish, 
ice,  and  vessels  on  the  Banks  ;  and,  of  course,  there 
was  no  pleasure,  to  while  the  time  away.  The  fleet 
on  the  Main  Ledge  consisted  of  seventy  sail.  They 
fished  from  dories,  and  when  the  men  were  busy  at 
work  these  dories  lay  in  two  large  fleets.  Imagine 
four  hundred  boats  side  by  side,  and  just  to  leeward 
of  them,  four  hundred  more,  each  containing  a  man. 
A  continual  humming  sound  hovered  over  these 
fleets,  produced  by  human  voices,  and  the  slatting  of 
the  fish  from  the  hooks.  Every  man  was  busy  and  in 
earnest. 

The  sport  of  catching  fish  is  when  they  bite  smart. 
One  day  we  could  catch  as  fast  as  we  could  haul, 
using  clam  bait.  Tiie  boats  were  in  line,  rubbing, 
chafing  and  jamming  against  each  other.  Occasion- 
ally the  sound  of  the  muddle  was  heard  as  it  tapped 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.       285 

a  struggling  fish  on  the  head.  The  water  beneath 
the  dories  was  packed  with  codfish,  millions  upon 
millions,  for  that  was  their  feeding  ground.  Fish  are 
migratory  in  their  habits,  the  same  school  that  was 
there  that  day,  might  be  a  hundred  miles  away  the 
next,  and  not  one  be  taken  on  that  spot  for  a  week, 
yet  the  vessels  would  remain  there  and  get  their  fares. 
The  fish  at  length  discontinued  biting,  and  no  bait 
held  out  sufficient  inducement  for  them  to  walk  over 
the  sides  of  our  boats.  This  being  so,  the  men  of 
every  nationality  that  could  endure  cold  weather,  lay 
back  and  smoked  their  pipes,  or  amused  themselves 
when  an  opportunity  offered  in  "  baiting  up  "  a  shark, 
many  carrying  bayonets  and  old  harpoons  with  which 
to  make  an  attack. 

"  Say,  Ned,  what's  this  long,  big  fish  that  is  swim- 
ming around  my  boat !  '* 

"  Why,  that's  a  shark,  my  dear ;  bait  him  up  while 
I  make  fast  this  long  knife  to  the  handle  of  my  oar." 

"  Bait  him  up,  Brown ;  heave  more  fish  near  my 
boat." 

On  glided  the  shark,  and  when  near  me,  I  plunged 
the  knife  into  him  with  all  my  strength.  He  only 
wriggled  his  tail  and  swallowed  a  fish.  I  made  three 
or  four  more  strikes  at  him,  and  finally  concluded  that 
my  efforts  in  that  direction  were  of  but  little  use,  as 
a  larger  weapon  than  the  one  I  had  would  be  required 
to  capture  his  sharkship.  Their  tenacity  of  life  is 
wonderful.  In  illustration  of  this,  I  will  mention  a 
circumstance. 

One  Sunday,  as  we  lay  near  the  "  Starr  King,"  her 


286       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

skipper  jumped  into  a  dory  to  harpoon  a  porpoise. 
He  had  drawn  it  into  his  boat  and  had  just  taken  the 
harpoon  from  the  dead  fish,  when  he  looked  up  from 
his  labors  and  saw  a  huge  shark  rushing  for  his  boat. 
It  sprung  at  the  man,  with  mouth  wide  open,  and  we 
all  thought  that  the  skipper  was  to  be  dragged  from 
his  boat.  But  with  great  presence  of  mind  he  thrust 
the  long  harpoon  fairly  and  steadily  down  the  gaping 
throat  of  the  savage  fish,  even  to  the  handle  of  the 
iron.  The  shark  beat  a  retreat  for  a  season,  but  soon 
began  to  wind  the  line  around  his  body  and  pull  the 
boat  and  all  it  contained  under  water.  The  skipper 
had  no  knife  or  he  would  have  cut  clear  from  his 
enemy,  who  was  winding  the  line  up  with  great 
rapidity.  He  shouted  for  help,  and  boats  flew  to  the 
rescue.  The  first  one  that  arrived  upon  the  scene 
of  action  had  a  sharp  blubber  spade  for  a  weapon, 
and  cut  and  stabbed  the  shark  until  the  line  of  the 
boat  was  clear  from  the  wounded  monster,  who  swam 
away  witli  more  than  forty  deep  gashes,  and  the 
harpoon  still  in  his  throat.  The  skipper  thus  saved 
took  a  solemn  oath  he  would  not  do  any  more  work, 
or  sport  on  Sunday.  Many  times  I  have  had  sharks 
follow  me  for  miles  on  the  smooth  water  when  I  had 
a  deep  load  of  fish,  and  expected  every  moment  to 
be  snapped  from  my  boat  and  lugged  down  to  the 
bottom  of  the  ocean.  I  am  no  exception  to  the  rule 
that  "  every  sailor  hates  a  shark." 

Boats  were  off  to  the  fleet  again,  but  the  fish  took 
hold  slowly.  Up  came  the  fog,  cold  and  damp,  hid- 
ing everything  about  us.     Still  we  fished  away,  for 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       287 

every  one  counted.  There  were  vessels  all  about  us, 
but  we  could  not  see  them ;  once  in  awhile  the  fog 
scaled  a  bit,  and  the  bright  sun-dogs  shone  through 
the  vapor. 

"  Hark !  what's  that  rushing  noise  we  hear  ?  Look! 
there  is  a  barque  under  full  sail,  coming  right  into 
the  fleet.  Look  lively  there,  lads.  My  God !  it's  too 
late."  With  a  crash  that  was  heard  through  the  dense 
fog,  the  large  vessel  struck  the  schooner  "  Widow 
Wadman,"  and  she  was  a  wreck. 

The  barque  with  all  sail  set  kept  on  her  course, 
and  was  fortunate  enough  to  steer  clear  of  the  boats 
and  vessels,  and  went  off  like  a  ghost,  into  the  realms 
of  fog.  But  the  sinking  schooner  demanded  our  at- 
tention. A  large  number  of  boats  were  at  hand,  each 
endeavoring  to  save  such  articles  as  could  be  moved. 
The  spars  were  cut  away  and  the  wreck  was  then 
towed  away  from  the  fishing  ground  and  burned. 

Such  are  the  perils  of  the  fishermen.  Men's  lives 
are  in  jeopardy  during  the  whole  time  they  remain 
on  the  banks.  With  icebergs,  fogs,  collisions  and 
gales  they  stand  a  poor  chance.  I  was  lost  in  the  fog 
two  days,  all  alone,  and  lay  at  anchor  until  it  lifted, 
then  I  saw  the  fleet  about  two  miles  from  me.  Many 
are  lost  each  year.  A  man  who  belonged  to  the 
"  Rose,"  lay  on  the  water  four  days  in  his  boat.  He 
could  not  find  the  fleet,  but  a  passing  vessel  heard 
his  horn  and  picked  him  up,  carried  him  to  the 
States,  where  with  good  grit  he  shipped  in  a  banker 
that  was  bound  on,  and  soon  after,  joined  his  vessel 
again.     The  missing  man   astonished  his  old  ship- 


288       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

mates  when  he  appeared  in  their  midst,  having  been 
gone  four  weeks. 

Fearful  winds  spring  up  suddenly  and  take  many 
dories  away  from  their  haven  of  safety.  I  was 
caught  far  to  leeward  of  the  "  Marietta,"  and  had 
to  pull  for  my  life.  No  other  vessel  lay  near  me, 
and  I  had  to  keep  to  windward,  deep  loaded  with  fish, 
which  made  the  dory  pull  easier ;  had  I  been  light,  I 
should  have  capsized.  I  gained  on  her,  after  pulling 
for  two  hours  with  the  energy  of  despair.  At  length 
my  strength  was  gone ;  1  could  only  keep  her  head  to 
the  white,  tumbling  seas.  Hundreds  of  eyes  were 
upon  me ;  dories  bottom  up,  and  others  half  full  of 
fish  and  water  went  by  like  flashes,  over  the  sea.  Oars, 
reels,  seats'  and  buckets  were  on  the  water.  The 
nearest  land  was  Newfoundland,  eighty  miles  to  the 
leeward.  Oh,  how  I  pulled  at  those  nine  foot  oars.  My 
thole-pins  were  almost  worn  out,  and  I  had  made  up 
my  mind  to  scud  before  the  wind,  when  I  heard  lieavy 
guns  to  windward.  I  looked  over  my  shoulder  in 
agony,  for  I  dared  not  to  lose  my  feeble  stroke.  An 
empty  dory  with  strong  line  attached,  belonging  to  the 
"  Marietta,"  and  one  end  of  the  line  held  on  board, 
was  coming  down  to  me,  borne  over  the  mighty  waves, 
like  a  feather.  Salt  tears  ran  down  my  feverish  cheeks 
as  I  grasped  the  becket  at  the  stern,  and  in  quick 
time  made  my  own  boat  fast.  Sitting  in  the  stern  of 
the  empty  boat  I  motioned  to  the  crew  to  haul  me  up, 
and  placed  my  spare  oars  in  readiness  to  scud,  if  the 
line  parted.  How  handsomely  the  two  rode  the  seas, 
as  every  moment  I  drew  nearer  my  vessel,  and  finally 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.       289 

got  safely  aboard,  with  both  boats.  Our  deck  was 
filled  with  dories,  and  strangers,  men  who  had  sought 
refuge  from  a  watery  grave  ;  and  I  felt  thankful  that 
I  had  been  saved  through  their  quick  perception  of 
my  danger. 

"Virgin  Rock''  is  formed  of  a  vast  ledge  that 
cannot  be  seen  unless  on  some  clear  day,  when,  on 
looking  down  into  the  calm  water,  it  is  visible  in  two 
and  one  half  fathoms  of  water.  The  Banks  are  table 
lands,  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean  ;  on  the  sides  and 
tops  of  which,  millions  of  codfish  feed. 

With  our  hold  packed  full  of  salted  fish,  and  all 
the  salt  used  up,  we  set  our  colors  and  prepared 
to  leave  for  home.  Twelve  hundred  quintals  of  good 
fish  were  under  the  well-battened  hatches.  The  men 
in  the  fleet  cheered  as  they  saw  our  colors  go  danc- 
ing to  the  mast  head,  and  letters  to  be  taken  home 
came  in  fast.  It  began  to  blow  a  gale  as  soon  as 
we  had  raised  the  anchor,  but  under  Bank  sail  we  ran 
before  it.  The  vessel  was  rolling  badly  when  the 
stove,  full  of  hot  coals,  was  overturned,  and  thought- 
lessly the  helmsman  left  the  wheel.  The  schooner 
lurched  to,  laying  in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  whose 
tumbling  waves  poured  on  our  deck.  Men  washed 
overboard  by  one  wave,  were  washed  inboard  by  the 
next.  Everybody  was  saved  ;  but  what  a  danger  to 
nm !  I  took  the  wlieel  and  we  scud  until  the  fore- 
sail blew  away,  and  then  run  her  under  try-sail  and 

jib. 

Three  days  we  scud  her,  and  at  length  the  storm- 
tossed  vessel  lay  off  Halifax  in  a  flat  calm,  and  we 


290       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life, 

rested  with  sails  down  three  days  longer,  when  a  main- 
sail and  a  new  foresail  were  bent,  and  the  wind  came 
heavy  again. 

"  As  long  as  she  cracks  she  holds,"  said  the  skipper, 
as  he  rubbed  his  hands  ;  "  they  called  me  '  Bully  Tom,' 
didn't  they,  Ned  ?  Now  I  have  been  fair ;  you  know 
that,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Ah,  you  have  got  a  good  crew,"  I  answered;  "  it 
is  the  crew  that  makes  the  skipper." 

We  held  the  wind  and  arrived  safely  at  home  in  two 
days.  All  accounts  were  settled  to  our  satisfaction, 
and  I  bade  the  "  Marietta  "  good-bye. 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life.       291 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

The  "  Comet "  and  my  Prospects.  —  The  St.  Croix  River  —  A  High 
Tide  —  Lumber  Trade  —  Pleasant  Hours  —  Eastport  —  A  Christ- 
mas Pudding  —  Necessity,  the  Mother  of  Invention,  called  to  our 
Aid  —  A  Large  Fleet  —  A  Winter  Storm  —  Fast  before  the  Gale 
we  Reach  Holmes'  Hole  —  Off  for  New  Haven  —  Our  Cargo 
Discharged  —  Boston  and  Home. 


MADE  up  my  mind  to  join  the  United  States 
service  again  ;  and  one  cool  November  morn- 
ing, the  train  was  whirling  me  over  the  iron 
rails  to  the  eastward,  and  I  was  enjoying  the  beauty 
of  the  country  through  which  we  passed.  All  nature 
had  put  on  her  garments  of  many  colors ;  the  trees 
seemed  like  waves  of  fire  as  the  cars  rushed  through 
the  oak  groves  and  by  the  dense  forests.  Farmers 
were  busy  finishing  their  fall  work  ;  stacks  of  salt  hay 
were  on  the  marshes  ;  vessels  and  boats  were  hauled 
up  and  housed  for  the  winter,  and  everybody  seemed 
busy  at  something. 

The  rattling,  driving  cars  soon  conveyed  me  to 
Portsmouth.  There  I  met  large  numbers  of  seamen, 
nearly  all  of  whom  were  being  besieged  by  substitute 
runners  ;  but  Jack  Tar  was  wide  awake,  and  very  few 
fell  into  the  hands  of  those  war  sharks.  After  an 
experience  with  one  of  those  brokers,  and  roaming 
about  the  city  for  a  fortnight,  keeping  my  eyes  open 
for  a  good  chance,  I  happened  upon  the  wharf  one 


292       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life. 

day,  and  came  across  a  large  schooner  which  suddenly- 
struck  my  fancy. 

"  Who  is  the  master  of  this  vessel  ? ''  I  asked. 

"  Captain  Hodgdon,"  said  a  clumsy  youth  of  seven- 
teen. 

"  What  is  the  vessel's  name  ? " 

"  The  CoBiET,  sir." 

I  was  all  right ;  having  formerly  sailed  with  him, 
and  this  was  his  vessel  ready  to  start.  Soon  after, 
the  Captain  came  rolling  down  the  wharf. 

"  Ah,  ah,  Ned,  here  you  are ;  you  must  go  with  me 
now,  sure." 

"  What  will  you  give  me  to  go  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Well,  I  '11  give  you  forty-five  dollars  a  month,  and 
a  mate's  berth." 

"  I  'm  there,  sir,"  said  I ;  *'  trot  out  the  articles." 

"  I  was  after  you  a  week  ago,  Ned ;  but  the  folks 
said  you  had  gone  to  Portland  ;  I  'm  glad  youVe  met 
me,  or  I  've  met  you,  which  is  it  ?  —  at  any  rate  we  '11 
haul  out  to-night,  and  to-morrow  get  the  crew,  set  up 
the  rigging,  and  make  her  look  well ;  go  ahead  on 
your  own  hook." 

I  strolled  up  the  street  for  a  time,  and  at  midnight 
went  on  board,  and  the  vessel  dropped  down  the 
stream  with  the  tide.  How  lovely  the  full  moon  shone, 
on  tUe  calm,  clear  water.  The  anchor  carried  the 
chain  to  the  bottom  and  we  lay  below  the  "  Colora- 
do," at  the  Kittery  yard.  Three  days'  work  on  the 
"  Comet,"  was  done  and  she  looked  much  better. 
She  had  formerly  been  a  fast  packet  brig,  but  steam- 
ers had  run  her  out  of  the  business.    The  cabin  was 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       293 

large  and  roomy,  with  old  fashioned  transoms  and 
cupboards.  The  top  of  my  berth  was  marked  and 
cut  by  passengers  who  had  had  tea  and  liquor  in  the 
bunk,  and  becoming  sea-sick,  had  marked  up  the 
smooth  wood  to  while  the  hours  away.  The  smell  of 
raw  onions  prevailed  around  my  resting  place.  Bush- 
els of  the  rank  vegetable  were  below  me,  and  I  was 
well  assured  of  keeping  in  a  most  healthy  state  by 
their  use.  Four  times  the  wind  blew  us  back  to  the 
harbor  after  we  had  sailed,  but  at  the  fifth  attempt 
we  lay  snug  to  the  wind  and  shaved  the  ledge  below 
Boon  Island,  and  then  with  better  sea-room  dashed 
away  on  our  course. 

In  three  days'  time  we  entered  St.  Croix  River,  and 
sailed  between  high  wooded  shores,  that  rose  abruptly 
on  either  hand.  We  were  not  long  in  reaching  Calais, 
and  soon  had  our  vessel  at  the  wharf,  awaiting  its 
freight.  The  St.  Croix  is  a  deep  and  narrow  stream, 
having  its-  rise  far  back  in  the  large  lakes,  pouring 
its  waters  through  many  saw  mills,  and  winding  its 
way  along  many  a  crooked  mile  to  Passamaquoddy 
Bay.  The  wharves  on  the  river  are  thirty-six  feet  in 
height,  and  the  tide  rises  generally  as  high  as  the 
capsill,  before  it  shows  a  disposition  to  ebb.  I  have 
seen  the  water  cover  the  highest  wharves,  and  vessels 
riding  nearly  upon  the  heavy  lumber,  that  did  not 
float  on  the  shoal  water.  Such  is  a  genuine  Bay  of 
Fundy  tide,  —  the  highest  natural  tides  in  the  world, 
with  one  exception. 

I  was  booked  up  on  Calais,  having  before  this  trip 
walked  its  plank  sidewalks  and  splashed  througli  its 


294       Seve7t  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life, 

mud.  This  is  the  town  where  the  valorous  Enghsh 
Colonel  dashed  over  the  bridge  with  his  raiders,  and 
"  gobbled  "  the  funds  of  the  bank,  before  the  citizens 
collected  to  drive  them  back.  The  river  separates 
Yankee  from  English  ground,  and  at  all  times  of  the 
year  the  two  classes  of  people  mingle  freely.  Im- 
mense quantities  of  liquor  and  contraband  goods  are 
easily  transferred  from  shore  to  shore,  thus  eluding 
heavy  duties.  Many  ships  are  built  on  both  shores, 
but  British  gold  and  cheap  board  secure  the  best  of 
Yankee  workmen.  Calais  is  a  great  lumber  market, 
and  there  are  hundreds  of  vessels  loading  at  its  port 
during  the  summer  months.  Large  rafts  of  lum- 
ber are  floated  down  the  stream,  and  railroad  cars 
bring  the  prepared  lumber  direct  to  the  decks  of  the 
vessels.  The  mills  on  the  river  run  their  gangs  of 
saws  night  and  day,  and  the  buzz  and  hum  of  ma- 
chinery can  be  heard  for  miles  on  a  calm  night,  as 
the  power  of  water  drives  the  sharp  saws  though  the 
different  kinds  of  wood.  We  were  "  taken  up,"  that 
is,  had  an  offer  of  freight,  and  hauled  in  to  the  desig- 
nated wharf,  and  with  some  smart  longshore  men 
with  their  "pickalels,"  began  to  stow  the  lumber. 

My  old  cronies  soon  found  me  out,  and  as  soon  as 
the  day's  work  was  done  and  supper  bolted,  there  was 
plenty  of  real,  sensible  fun  ahead.  A  sailor  who  is 
civil,  neat,  and  conversant  on  any  common  topics 
can  find  plenty  of  good  people  to  associate  with  in 
every  port  to  which  he  may  go.  Every  night  I  was 
in  company  that  would  improve,  and  not  debase  me. 
We  sung,  talked,  played  and  walked.     There  was 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       295 

a  due  sense  of  propriety,  goodness  and  respect  in 
the  ladies  and  the  families  with  whom  we  associated, 
and  such  companionship  always  keeps  a  man  in  his 
proper  place. 

One  night  we  went  towards  the  covered  bridge,  and 
on  turning  the  corner  saw  a  crowd  of  men  indulging 
in  a  rough  and  tumble  fight.  The  girls  drew  back 
with  pale  faces,  but  we  walked  near  the  scene  of  ac- 
tion. A  dark  figure  jumped  from  a  door  way  ;  a 
musket  was  levelled,  and  the  flash  of  the  gun  eclipsed 
for  a  moment  the  moonlight.  An  American  lay  wel- 
tering in  his  blood,  and  cries  of  rage  went  up  from 
the  combatants.  Knives,  clubs,  and  fists  came  into 
play.  The  "  Home  Guard,"  rushed  to  the  spot  and 
laid  the  clubbed  musket  and  muscular  arm  upon  the 
backs  of  the  rioters.  Yells  of  pain  and  fear,  cries  of 
terror  and  shouts  of  victory,  damaged  heads  and  cut 
bodies  were  plenty,  but  the  soldiers  secured  their 
prisoners. 

"  Come,  boys,"  cried  the  mate  of  the  "  Baltic,"  as 
he  grasped  our  arms,  "  let  us  leave  this  place ;  it's  too 
hot  for  me,  altogether  ;  we  '11  be  nabbed  in  a  minute." 

We  took  his  advice  and  hurried  away.  The  ladies 
stood  together  with  hands  nervously  clasped,  and 
tearful  eyes  greeted  us. 

We  quietly  returned  home,  and  I  related  several 
incidents  connected  with  my  own  experience  as  a 
sailor,  which  had  the  tendency  to  somewhat  dampen 
the  ardor  of  a  lad  who  had  had  a  great  desire  to  go  to 
sea.  He  began  to  understand  that  a  "  life  on  the 
ocean  wave,"  is  not  altogether  one  of  ease  or  pleasure, 


296       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 

and  that  it  loses  many  of  its  attractions  upon  a  near 
approach. 

A  sailor's  last  night  in  port  is  memorable,  and  too 
often  noisy  and  turbulent,  but  ours  passed  off  quiet 
and  happy.  We  were  to  sail  in  the  morning ;  and  we 
parted  from  each  other  with  reluctance.  At  sunrise 
the  four  vessels  hauled  out  into  the  stream  and  spread 
their  white  wings  to  the  breeze.  Our  barque  soon 
left  the  others  behind,  and  we  came  to  anchor  at  Red 
Beach.  We  had  one  hundred  thousand  five  hun- 
dred feet  of  two  inch  plank  stowed  in  our  hold  and 
on  deck,  well  put  in,  laying  snug  as  a  floor.  Red 
Beach  had  a  plaster  mill  in  constant  operation,  and 
that  was  all  the  sign  of  business  visible.  We  took  a 
stroll  upon  St.  Croix  Island,  and  had  a  view  of  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  sunsets  I  ever  witnessed ;  then, 
once  more  aboard,  we  soon  reached  Eastport  and 
found  the  smoking  ruins  of  many  pleasant  homes 
destroyed  by  a  most  disastrous  fire.  Our  Captain  was 
a  thorough  seaman.  He  was  the  first  with  whom  I 
had  sailed,  and  I  always  found  him  ready  to  impart 
to  a  young  man  in  his  employ,  information  that 
would  benefit  him.  ' 

Christmas  day  came  to  us  with  a  heavy  snow  storm 
while  we  were  outside  of  the  land,  and  ploughing  our 
way  with  reefed  sails.  Our  dinner  was  herring  and 
potatoes,  gingerbread,  sauce,  coffee,  and,  to  cap  all,  a 
long  apple-duff  served  with  long-tailed  sugar.  It  was 
boiled  in  one  leg  of  a  pair  of  new  linen  pants  ;  for  the 
duff  boiler  had  a  large  hole  in  it,  and  "  necessity  is 
the  mother  of  invention.*'     We  came  to  anchor  in 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life.       297 

Portland  harbor,  remained  there  three  or  four  days, 
and  though  a  fearful  storm  seemed  brooding  over  us, 
we  sailed  on  Sabbath  morning  in  company  with  one 
hundred  and  sixty  vessels  of  various  kinds,  from  large 
brigs  and  barques  to  little  "  pinkies."  These  separ- 
ated and  went  in  all  directions,  nearly  a  hundred 
of  them  being  bound  over  the  shoals,  and  heading 
for  Cape  Cod. 

With  the  fury  of  the  winter's  blast,  the  long  pent- 
up  gale  came  rushing  upon  us.  Every  vessel  reduced 
sail  and  ran  under  the  land.  "  Can  you  put  her  into 
Holmes'  Hole,  Ned  ?  If  you  can,  let  it  be  done,"  said 
the  skipper.  Close  and  snugly  reefed  sails,  guyed 
out  like  huge  wings,  sent  the  vessel  reeling  before 
the  howling  gale.  The  night  shut  down ;  we  were 
alone  in  the  whirl  of  the  storm.  The  man  at  the 
wheel  was  trembling  for  his  safety,  yet  doing  his  best 
to  guide  the  craft  through  the  running  seas.  He  soon 
cried  out,  "  Please  take  the  wheel,  sir,  I  'm  freezing 
and  can't  steer."  I  had  been  on  deck  constantly, 
and  felt  just  like  action. '  "  I  '11  take  the  wheel,"  said 
I,  "  and  put  her  safe  in  the  Hole  before  daylight, 
keep  a  good  lookout  forward,  for  we  '11  go  right  over 
anything  we  may  strike." 

Through  the  dark  and  stormy  night  the  vessel  flew. 
Rolling  waves,  and  blindiiig  snow  were  all  about  us, 
but  the  little  compass  was  on  its  trutliful  duty.  Ed- 
gartown  and  East  Chop  Light  were  seen  glimmering 
through  the  murky  night.  The  vessel  went  past  light 
boats  and  vessels  at  anchor,  and  soon  we  were  off  the 
harbor.     The  snow  ceased  to  fall ;  the  wind  roared 


298       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life, 

like  a  fury,  as  with  quick  motion  I  whirled  the  wheel, 
and  like  a  shooting  star,  we  cleared  main  and  jib- 
booms  of  different  vessels  and  came  safely  to  anchor. 
We  lay  there  a  few  days,  then  ran  to  New  Haven, 
and  discharged  cargo  in  lighters.  A  trip  off  our  rocky 
coasts  during  the  winter  months  is  decidedly  unpleas- 
ant, and  as  the  "  Comet "  was  to  return  loaded  with 
railroad  iron,  I  resolved  not  to  go  in  her.  I  received 
my  pay,  clothed  myself  in  citizen's  clothes,  and  meet- 
ing a  drunkard's  child  in  the  street,  ragged  and  with 
bleeding  feet,  I  employed  my  surplus  funds  to  supply 
her  with  warm  garments  and  foot  gear.  I  went 
aboard  the  vessel,  bade  my  shipmates  good  bye,  filled 
my  clothes  bag  with  monstrous  oranges  for  the  old 
folks  at  home,  then  stepped  on  board  a  train  and  was 
soon  landed  in  Boston. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.      299 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

A  Sea-sick  Company  on  Board  of  the  "  George  Shattuck  "  —  Laugh- 
able Scenes  —  The  Sailor's  Boarding  House  —  "  Splitting  up  a 
Dictionary"  —  Off  for  the  Banks,  on  the  "Nason"  —  An  Ocean 
Race  of  a  Thousand  Miles  —  Icebergs  —  Their  Noonday  Beauty 
—  Saved  by  a  Sharp  Lookout  —  John's  Thrilling  Experience  with 
a  Phantom  Brig  and  a  Spirit  Sailor  —  Where  Good  Fishing  is  to 
be  Found  —  Overboard  Again  —  Eleven  Hundred  Quintals  Down. 


HE  winter  of  sixty-five  and  six  wore  quickly 
away.  I  fully  realized  the  truth  of  the  say- 
ing, "  being  paid  off  and  coming  home  is  the 
best  part  of  going  to  sea."  If  I  had  given  scope  to 
rude  ideas  of  pleasure,  as  some  men  do,  it  would 
have  been  the  means  of  my  death  long  ago.  I  seemed 
like  a  bunch  of  muscle  and  bone ;  and  as  for  nerves 
to  be  shocked,  I  had  none.  I  was  alive  to  every  feel- 
ing that  would  promote  my  happiness,  and  add  to  my 
knowledge.  I  had  seen  enough  of  crime  and  dying 
pleasure  to  make  me  hate  the  term  of  "  he  is  a  brick," 
or,  "  she  is  a  staving  girl."  Through  the  best  of 
broadcloth  and  the  finest  of  silk  I  saw  the  wearers  in 
their  true  light,  and  resolved  to  be  a  better  man, 
and  establish  a  worthy  and  honorable  character  for 
myself. 

I  must  go  to  the  Banks  one  more  trip,  for  I  knew 
I  could  command  high  wages,  and  also  wished  to 
make  my  health  still  better.  I  had  a  little  of  the  coast 
of  Africa  in  me  yet,  and  four  months  on  the  Grand 


300       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

Banks,  would  make  me  as  strong  and  wiry  as  I  ever 
wished  to  be. 

On  a  bright  April  morning  I  arrived  in  Boston  and 
stepped  on  board  of  the  steamer  bound  to  Province- 
town.  We  left  the  harbor,  and  soon  after  the  steamer 
cleared  the  land,  encountered  a  stiff  breeze  and  a  sea 
that  ran  from  the  south-east.  The  passengers  wanted 
to  put  back,  it  was  so  very  rough,  but  on  we  went, 
passed  Minot's  ledge  and  plunged  into  the  long,  green 
and  white  billows,  that  tumbled  over  in  good  style. 
Every  woman  was  in  her  berth,  holding  on  with  a 
tight  grasp,  and  the  men  clung  to  the  fastened  chairs, 
with  speechless  tongues  and  pale  faces,  till  they  were 
summoned  to  pay  tribute  to  father  Neptune.  No  one 
seemed  inclined  to  step  outside  of  the  cabin  and  house 
doors,  and  no  dinner  could  be  cooked,  as  the  steward 
was  constantly  busy  in  picking  up  his  pans  and  crock- 
ery that  were  playing  pitch  and  toss  in  the  galley  and 
lockers.  In  the  cabin  the  ladies  occasionally  smiled 
in  a  sort  of  ghastly  manner,  and  exclamations  from 
all  sides  reached  my  ears. 

"  Oh,  oh,  I  know  we  're  sinking,  what  would  my  pa 
say  if  he  saw  me  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,  May,  how  do  you  feel  ?  "  asks  a  pale,  lovely 
girl  as  she  hugged  the  pillow. 

*'0h,  dear,  I  feel  as  if,  —  Oh,  help  me;"  and  a 
slender  hand  clutched  the  tin. 

"  Would  n't  you  like  some  fat  dinner,  sir  ?  "  said  I 
to  a  huge  bulk  of  an  individual,  who  grasped  his 
chair  with  a  nervous  grip.  "  Oh,  sir,  don't  mention 
it,  —  it's  coming,"  and  he  leaped  from  the  seat  and 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       301 

tumbled  to  the  half  open  door,  where  he  settled  his 
dinner  bill  to  his  satisfaction,  and  gazed  out  on  the 
troubled  sea. 

I  laughed  until  I  was  sore,  to  see  the  antics  cut  up 
in  that  cabin,  and  did  all  in  my  power  to  help  those 
who  needed  my  assistance. 

"  Young  man,"  said  a  pompous  personage,  who  laid 
upon  his  back  in  an  upper  bunk,  "  young  man,  please 
hand  me  a  piller  ;  I  've  bin  tew  sea  thirty-four  years, 
but  this  little  blow  just  knocks  me.  Ah,  thank  yer ; 
now  let  it  rip,  I  'm  in  good  quarters." 

The  steamer  went  on  her  way,  plunging,  dipping, 
and  creaking.  A  use  of  the  sails  steadied  the  hull, 
and  we  continued  over  the  rolling  seas  much  easier 
than  before.  The  sea-sick  people  crawled  from  their 
bunks  and  made  their  toilets,  and  all  were  anxious  to 
be  ashore. 

The  "  George  Shattuck  "  came  to  her  wharf,  amid 
a  pelting  cold  rain,  and  seeing  the  luggage  all  right, 
I  ran  up  the  longest  wharf  that  I  have  ever  seen  in 
all  my  travels.  I  went  into  a  fisherman's  boarding- 
house,  but  was  not  very  pleasantly  impressed  with  tlie 
style  or  manners  of  its  occupants.  A  party  of  rough 
men  were  busily  employed  in  teasing  a  still  rougher 
looking  boy,  who,  dirty  and  saucy,  was  not  in  very 
good  humor.  A  deafening  ringing  of  a  bell  informed 
me  that  1  might  expect  to  find  supper  on  the  table, 
and  so,  stumbling  down  a  dark  and  narrow  stairway, 
my  expectations  were  realized.  I  found  a  long  table 
at  which  a  large  number  of  men  were  seated,  bolting 
down  their  food  and  drink  with  a  fearful  rapidity. 


302       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life, 

That  done,  they  filled  their  pipes  and  puffed  away, 
soon  filling  the  apartment  with  clouds  of  smoke. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  a  seedy  looking  individual  ad- 
dressing me,  ''are  you  going  to  the  fishing  grounds 
this  summer?  Do  you  think  it  will  improve  me  to 
undertake  the  mighty  task  of  drawing  the  inhabitants 
of  the  vasty  deep  from  their  watery  domain  ?  Will 
my  degenerating  and  consumptive  appetite  be  im- 
proved, and  shall  I  once  again  recover  the  exuber- 
ance of  my  spirits  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  muchly  more  than  most,  most 
muchly.  You  can  retain  your  tenacity,  on  an  en- 
larged and  particularly  gutta-percha-ized  slice  of 
bovine  suchly  as  you  are  muchly  munching  now." 

"  Say,  Tom,"  screamed  a  coarse,  sunburnt  man 
seated  opposite  me,  to  his  chum  at  the  end  of  the 
table,  "  come  down  here,  if  you  want  to  hear  these 
fellers  split  up  a  dictionary  ; "  and  then  to  us,  "  go 
on,  my  boys,  I  meant  no  offence." 

I  was  full  of  fun,  but  kept  it  down  with  all  the  force 
I  could  command. 

"  My  dear  friend,"  began  the  seedy  man  again, 
"my  sense  and  my  perception  of  morality  are  not 
contiguous  with  the  elementary  combination,  display- 
ed in  the  caput  of  that  unhallowed  heaven-defying  in- 
dividual. His  presumption,  audacity,  and  contami- 
nating presence  completely  shocks  me  ;  I  shall  retire 
from  this  abode  of  sin  and  corruption." 

At  this  the  two  rough  men  threw  themselves  back 
in  their  chairs,  and  laughed  vigorous  horse-laughs 
until  they  were  silenced  by  the  master  of  the  house. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       303 

This  was  the  last  I  saw  of  my  seedy  friend,  but,  judg- 
ing from  the  way  the  food  and  drink  disappeared,  he 
might  as  well  go  to  farming,  as  fishing,  for  he  could 
eat  his  weight  wherever  he  went. 

I  paid  my  bill,-  and  as  the  rain  had  ceased,  padded 
the  hoof  to  hunt  up  a  neat  and  quiet  place  to  board 
until  I  could  find  a  vessel.  I  soon  reached  a  comfort- 
able home  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Cook,  a  kind  old  gen- 
tleman, who  was  fond  of  a  good  dry  joke  and  well 
spread  table.  My  experience  justified  my  first  im- 
pressions. In  the  spring  and  fall  I  made  my  abid- 
ing place  beneath  his  hospitable  roof,  and  on  leaving, 
was  deeply  thankful  to  him  for  his  kindness  and  at- 
tention. 

The  harbor  was  full  of  vessels,  and  the  houses  full 
of  men.  I  conned  the  different  craft,  and  at  length 
pitched  upon  the  Nason,  a  noble  little  fisherman, 
bound  on  her  second  trip.  She  was  all  that  a  seaman 
could  ask  for,  and  on  her  first  trip  to  the  Banks,  was 
the  object  of  admiration.  The  skipper  was  the  best 
one  til  at  ever  I  sailed  with  ;  kind,  and  a  good  pro- 
vider, always  on  hand,  and  never  weary.  I  was  soon 
shipped,  and  chest  and  bedding  put  away  in  my  cabin 
berth. 

On  the  fifth  of  May  we  flung  our  canvas  and  colors 
to  the  breeze,  and  started  in  a  friendly  race  with  the 
"  East  Wind,"  "  Ada  Brooks,"  and  two  other  vessels. 
We  had  entered  on  a  thousand  mile  race,  and  some 
tall  steering  must  be  done.  The  weather  was  splendid, 
the  wind  on  the  neam.  and  away  we  spanned  over  the 
(Xeaa.     I  was  ar  me  wheel  nearly  all  uight  of  the 


304       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

fourth  day  we  had  left  port,  and  when  I  stepped  from 
the  wheel  the  "  Ada  Brooks  "  was  hull  down  in  our 
wake  ;  the  other  vessels  had  given  up  the  race  two 
days  before,  and  then  it  lay  all  in  our  favor.  At  noon, 
when  I  came  on  deck,  the  "  Brooks  "  was  cutting  the 
water  like  a  knife,  and  passing  us  with  colors  flying ; 
all  the  dexterity  that  we  could  bring  to  bear,  could 
not  make  us  gain  on  her,  and  in  less  than  an  hour 
she  had  soundings  on  the  southern  part  of  Grand 
Bank.  This  was  good  sailing;  five  days  from  the 
Cape  to  the  edge  of  the  Bank.  Our  vessel  kept  on 
and  ran  nearly  across  the  bank  before  we  unbent  the 
main  sail,  and  set  the  trysail. 

Day  after  day  we  tried  for  fish,  but  obtained  only 
enough  for  a  chowder,  and  we  at  last  concluded  to  go 
North.  Days  and  days  we  sailed,  never  knowing  our 
exact  position,  but  supposing  ourselves  on  the  most 
northern  and  eastern  edge  of  the  Bank.  The  weather 
was  cold,  rain  and  snow  squalls  were  frequent,  and 
icebergs  were  seen  every  clear  day.  I  counted  three 
one  day,  and  eighteen  the  next.  Some  were  very 
small,  others  towered  high,  and  when  the  midday  sun 
shone  upon  them  they  were  too  beautiful  to  look  upon 
for  any  length  of  time.  When  the  splendor  of  the 
setting  sun  was  reflected  back  from  their  dark  chasms 
and  high  peaks,  in  floods  of  rosy  light,  we  were  all 
deeply  impressed  with  their  transcendent  beauty.  At 
most  times  the  icebergs  looked  cold,  hard,  and  blue, 
but  on  a  foggy  day,  on  near  approach  they  seemed  like 
monstrous  pale  ghosts,  beckoning  us  on  to  our  doom. 

One  night  while  underway,  we  had  found  large  fish, 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life,       305 

yet  dared  not,  late  as  it  was,  lay  at  anchor  for  fear  of 
the  masses  of  ice.  It  was  a  most  uncomfortable  night ; 
rain,  thick  fog,  and  glimmering  icebergs,  were  on 
every  hand.  I  held  the  wheel,  amid  the  sound  of 
rushing  waters,  straining  spars,  and  shouts  of  men 
on  every  hand,  and  kept  my  eyes  wide  open. 

"  Don't  you  see  anything  ?  "  I  inquired  of  the  Por- 
tuguese lookouts,  who,  with  heads  sheltered  by  their 
dripping  Sou'-westers  seemed  to  care  for  nothing  so 
long  as  they  kept  the  water  from  their  necks. 

"  No,  not  a  thing,"  said  the  muffled  head. 

"  Here,  John,  take  this  wheel,"  said  I,  and  ran  for- 
ward to  the  bow.  The  men  looked  up,  their  eyes  half 
shut,  and  with  a  growl  settled  themselves  on  the  wind- 
lass end.  I  gave  one  look,  quick  and  sure.  Oh,  hor- 
ror, a  huge  berg  was  close  upon  us. 

<'Hard  up,  Hard  up,  for  your  life,  John,"  I 
shouted. 

"  Steady,  don't  jib  her ;  stand  by  your  sheets,"  and 
the  rushing  vessel  passed  so  near  the  iceberg  that  the 
spray  fell  on  our  faces. 

"  Saved  again ;  my  little  cherub  that  sits  up  aloft, 
I  thank  thee,"  I  exclaimed,  as  I  wended  my  way  to 
the  wheel. 

"  Pretty  close  shave,  Ned,"  said  the  skipper  to  me, 
"  and  you  will  keep  the  wheel  till  morning ;  and  you, 
John,  take  the  lookout." 

We  passed  the  night  in  safety,  but  very  uncomfort- 
ably, and  came  to  anchor  at  daylight,  found  good  fish, 
and  when  the  mists  rolled  away  we  were  alone,  not 
even  an  iceberg  being  in  sight.     That  night  there 


306       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof's  Life, 

were  tough  army,  fish,  and  spirit  yarns  spun  in  the 
cabin. 

*'  I  believe  in  spirits,"  said  John,  "  an'  my  word  I 
take  on  the  Bible  is  good ;  now  listen,"  and  he  took 
the  pipe  from  his  mouth  and  began,  —  "  I  was  going 
home  from  these  'ere  banks  in  tlie  old  '-  Mahaley,'  — 
she  was  a  curious  old  boat  —  an'  we  were  twenty  days 
going  from  below  the  Rainbow  Podd  until  we  got  off 
Halifax.  Well,  do  you  see,  one  lovely  moonshiny 
night  we  was  walking  along,  winged  out,  when  we  all 
sees  a  brig  pop  out  o'  the  water  right  on  ahead  o'  us. 
I  yells  out  for  'em  to  put  the  wheel  down,  when.  Lord 
help  me,  if  we  did  n't  jibe  our  main  boom,  an'  broke 
it  off  at  the  jaws,  —  mind,  I  'm  telling  ye  the  solemn 
truth,  —  and  we  carried  away  our  rigging  an'  main 
sheet.  We  all  looked  for  the  brig,  but  she  had  van- 
ished. We  had  all  seen  her.  She  was  a  full-rigged 
brig,  looked  sort  o'  outlandish  ;  but  we  saw  her,  sure. 
Our  broken  spars  bore  evidence  to  our  having  met 
with  something." 

The  Captain  laughed  at  the  man's  story,  but  the 
narrator  did  not  smile.  He  took  a  few  whiffs  from 
his  clay  pipe  to  give  him  courage,  and  continued, 
— "  I  'm  getting  old,  sir,  but  my  conscience  is,  at  all 
events,  clear.  One  more  little  yarn  ;  you  know  I  don't 
often  waste  time  in  talk,  an'  then  I  '11  turn  in.  I  was 
coming  home  in  a  good,  new  brig,  from  the  West  In- 
dies, some  ten  years  ago.  The  night  was  darker  than 
a  stack  of  black  cats,  when  I  was  ordered  out  to  take 
in  the  flying-jib.  I  laid  out  on  the  boom,  and  looked 
out  to  the  end.     My  Lord,  sir,  what  do  you  think  I 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life,       307 

see  ?  kill  me  dead  if  there  want  a  great  big  fellow  a- 
straddle  o'  the  boom  and  holding  on  to  nothing.  I 
see  his  wet  skin  shine  in  the  darkness,  and  there  he 
sot ;  the  vessel  plungin'  an'  tearin'  over  the  rushing 
waves.  How  I  got  inboard  I  can't  say  ;  but  I  got  in 
and  run  for  the  mate.  We  got  lanterns  and  clubs 
and  went  out  on  the  boom,  backed  by  the  watch  who 
came  hurrying  up.  Lord,  how  the  mate  trembled  as 
he  looked  at  him  by  the  glare  of  the  lantern  ;  there 
he  sot,  staring  at  us.  The  mate  held  on  with  one 
hand  to  the  guy,  and  struck  the  object  with  his  heavy 
club,  with  all  his  might.  The  club  flew  from  his 
hand,  an'  he  took  mine.  He  struck  agin*,  and  the 
club  was  shattered  to  bits  on  the  boom,  on  which  the 
strange  being  had  sot,  but  he  was  gone.  Put  that 
down  in  your  log  of  memory,  sir,  an'  dream  on  it. 
Don't  you  believe  my  words  ?  By  the  big  hook-block, 
I  'm  in  earnest ! " 

The  men  who  were  in  the  cabin  listened  with  gap- 
ing mouths  and  open  eyes ;  I  turned  into  my  berth 
and  said  to  John :  "  You  are  what  the  spiritualist 
people  call '  a  seeing  medium.'  You  have  a  gift  that 
few  people  possess  in  this  world,  and  the  men  who 
were  with  you  were  seeing  mediums,  also  ;  the  same 
as  I  saw  the  iceberg,  that  was  a  material  thing ;  a  real 
thing  of  form  and  matter,  but  you  have  the  power  of 
seeing  spirit  objects." 

"Yes,  and  what  I  saw  was  real,  ginuine.  You 
can't  make  me  believe  in  spooks,  goblins  and  cape-fly- 
a-ways.  I  really  saw  as  I've  told  you."  Having  said 
this,  he  rolled  himself  in  his  thick  bed  clothes,  and 
soon  fell  asleep. 


308       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

We  found  fish  large  but  scarce,  then  stood  to  the 
westward,  and  soon  saw  a  fleet  of  Frenchmen  lying 
at  anchor.  Their  large  square  riggers  pick  up  im- 
mense quantities  of  codfish,  and  take  the  best  from 
the  bank.  The  old  mother  fish,  full  of  spawn,  are 
snaked  on,  to  their  miles  of  trawl  line,  and  gathered  in 
the  morning.  The  nert  day  we  were  near  two  largo 
icebergs  ;  their  height  from  the  water  was  estimated 
to  be  five  hundred  feet.  Every  form  of  arch,  tower, 
gothic  church  spires,  battlements  and  gaping  fissures 
were  plainly  seen,  and  it  was  two  thousand  feet  in 
circumference.  The  smaller  one  of  these  icebergs 
drifted  to  the  "Rocks,"  and  grounded  about  three 
miles  from  the  fleet. 

We  found  the  fleet  after  much  hunting,  and  I  don't 
believe  there  ever  was  a  skipper  on  the  Banks  who 
always  knew  just  where  his  vessel  lay.  They  know 
the  bottom,  whether  it  is  rocky,  sandy,  "  punkin  an' 
lemon,"  "  strawberry,"  ."  green  corn,"  "  red  and 
green,"  or  "copper  bottom."  Good  fish  are  found 
on  such  bottoms,  and  the  skipper  lets  his  anchor  go  as 
soon  as  the  fish  are  hooked.  "  Stick  out  cable,"  "  Bile 
her  up  handsomely,"  "  Put  on  the  strad,  and  pillow," 
and  "  Heave  over."  "  Here  they  gnaw  !  heave  out ; 
hook  your  tackles  there  and  hist  away."  How  quickly 
the  sixteen  dories  and  men  left  the  vessel.  Lively 
they  dropped  the  oars,  and  hove  the  anchor.  Fifty 
fathoms  of  anchor  cord  were  paid  out,  a  turn  taken 
on  the  cleet,  and  the  two  lines  were  over  the  side, 
hurrying  to  the  bottom,  by  the  aid  of  three  pounds  of 
lead,  which  was  allowed  to  touch,  and  then  was  hauled 
up  five  feet. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof's  Life,       309 

"  Put  on  your  nippers ;  there  is  a  snapping  at  the 
line." 

"  The  fish  were  well  hooked." 

"  Haul  steady  and  stand  back  straight." 

"  There  he  comes  to  your  view.  Pull  away  gently ; 
put  your  gaff  into  him  hard.  How  he  struggles. 
Tip  your  boat  a  little  and  slide  him  into  your  kid ; 
he  is  a  logy.  Here  is  another  on  this  line,  bait  up 
quick  and  heave  it  over  the  side,  yank  and  haul  away." 

Such  is  life  in  a  dory  on  the  Grand  Bank.  It  is  what 
is  to  be  done  every  day,  from  the  first  streak  of  light 
until  darkness  comes  over  the  sea ;  then,  dress  down 
and  wash  off. 

One  of  our  men  on  a  fine  day  went  to  the  "  Hay- 
cocks," and  found  fish  in  plenty,  large  and  fat.  We 
moved  away  from  the  fleet  of  vessels  and  came  to 
anchor  as  near  the  spot  as  we  could  guess  it  to  be. 
Need  I  say  we  had  good  fishing  ?  It  was  superb. 
We  had  all  we  could  do,  day  and  night,  and  the  skip- 
pers in  the  fleet  said,  "  that  fellow  aint  laying  off  there 
for  nothing,"  yet  they  kept  away  from  us  for  three 
weeks,  and  then,  down  they  came.  The  skippers  raved 
and  swore  some,  when  our  skipper  shouted,  "  Nine 
hundred  quintals  in  the  hold."  They  could  hardly 
believe  their  senses,  as  they  stood  on  board  our  vessel 
looking  at  the  high  kenches  of  salted  fish,  nice  and 
sweet  in  the  hold. 

We  had  religious  services  aboard,  every  Sunday, 
and  the  men  took  a  day  of  rest,  while  other  vessels 
had  their  men  out  chasing  capling,  and  fishing.  One 
day  I  drifted  under  our  vessel's  bow,  and  her  dolphin- 


510       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

striker  coming  down  hard  upon  my  boat,  I  was  quick- 
ly sunk.  I  was  encumbered  with  fishing  garments, 
but  on  rising  to  the  surface  easily  swam  about  till  I 
grasped  a  rope  that  the  cook  threw  out  to  me.  I  se- 
cured the  rope  to  my  body,  and  then  went  for  my  boat, 
which  I  saved,  with  all  the  Dait.  Several  skippers 
who  came  to  visit  us  one  Sunday,  were  lost  in  the 
fog,  when  they  attempted  to  return  to  their  vessels, 
and  were  out  all  night. 

Soon  we  had  elevea  hundred  quintals  down,  and  the 
men  still  catching  fisi-'.  as  fast  as  they  could  haul  them 
in.  A  better  crew  were  never  in  one  vessel ;  they 
were  all  well  fed  and  worked  well.  Fishermen  use 
a  great  quantity  of  tobacco,  mostly  in  chewing.  I 
always  carried  five  pounds,  as  little  as  I  used,  anc 
never  had  a  chance  to  bring  any  home.  The  "  Na^ 
son  "  was  the  high-line  boat,  and  many  wished  they 
belonged  to  her.  It  was  our  stealthy,  lucky  move, 
that  put  so  many  thousands  of  fish  into  our  hold.  On 
one  clear  day  we  saw  the  masts  of  fishermen  that  lay 
twelve  miles  from  us;  but  such  a  ccr'dition  of  the 
atmosphere  is  seldom  known  on  the  Banks. 

The  science  of  fishing  consists  of  quickness,  strength 
and  tact  in  all  cases ;  up  early  and  down  late ;  rest 
in  Sundays  and  good  food ;  care  of  men,  boats  and 
iquipage  ;  careful  dressing  and  salting  of  fish  ;  keen 
eyes  and  steady  hands  in  danger,  and  care  and  hu- 
manity to  all  in  the  vessel.  We  did  no  unnecessary 
labor,  never  worked  Sundays,  and  took  hold  Monday 
mornings  with  new  zest.  No  wonder  we  were  first 
chop  in  everything  that  pertained  to  a  good  and  suc- 
cessful fishing. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       311 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

Working  and  Winning  —  The  '*  Nason"  Flying  Home  —  Skippers 
on  their  Reckoning  —  The  Cape  in  View  —  In  Port  —  The  Men 
Paid  Off — Money  as  Free  as  Air  —  A  Sad  Warning  to  Rum 
Drinkers  —  Home  from  Sea  —  I  Ship  for  a  Southern  Trip  — 
Loosing  the  Frozen  Canvas  —  A  Tough  Gale  —  Our  Sails  Blown 
to  Ribbons  —  Intense  Cold  Weather  —  Twelve  Days  of  Suffering 
and  Danger —  We  Arrive  off  Charleston. 

continued  our  labors,  but  soon  found  the  fish 
becoming  scarce,  and  there  being  no  prospect 
of  better  luck,  we  went  to  the  Main  Ledge. 
Observing  a  square-headed  trysail  near  the  Brambles, 
I  was  not  long  in  ascertaining  it  to  be  the  '^  Marietta," 
and  the  next  Sunday  paid  her  a  visit.  Half  of  the 
men  were  off  in  dories,  chasing  capling,  but  with  little 
success.  The  skipper  was  glad  to  see  me,  wished  his 
old  hands  aboard,  deplored  his  ill-luck,  and  declared 
that  he  was  bound  to  get  his  fare,  if  he  remained  on 
the  Banks  until  the  snow  flew. 

We  toiled  hard,  and  with  so  many  vessels  at  work, 
the  fish  were  soon  thinned  out.  We  then  struck  for 
the  southern  end  of  the  Banks,  reached  it  in  three 
days,  and  were  soon  among  the  little  fleet  of  vessels, 
that  lay  quiet  during  the  day,  and  caught  fish  at 
night.  This  night  fishing  was  queer  work,  and  the 
men  were  inclined  to  rebel  against  it,  and  said,  — 

"  We  '11  catch  them  in  the  day-time,  but  as  for  being 
out  all  night  in  a  dory,  it  is  too  much  for  us."     There- 


312       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life. 

fore,  we  left  the  nighters,  and  ran  to  the  eastward. 
There  we  found  large  fish,  and  when  the  tide  was  slack 
we  had  them,  line  and  line.  "  Sixteen  hundred  quin- 
tals in  the  hold,"  was  sounded ;  then  the  men  were 
anxious  to  return  home.  The  well-filled  kenches  bore 
testimony  of  earnest  work.  They  had  fished  long 
enough,  and  when  they  went  out  in  the  boats,  they 
allowed  the  large  fish  to  pull  the  lead  all  about  the 
bottom,  and  came  aboard  with  a  few  little  ones. 

The  tide  ran  with  great  velocity,  taking  the  vessel 
against  the  hardest  gale  that  could  blow.  The  Cap- 
tain and  sharesmen  stormed  and  threatened,  and  the 
men  laughed  at  the  idea  of  making  them  catch  fish. 
The  last  barrel  of  flour  was  nearly  gone ;  we  had 
eaten  twenty- two  barrels  of  flour  thus  far,  besides  other 
stores.  The  wind  came  from  the  east  and  promised 
to  blow  a  long  gale,  and  vessels  were  flying  before  it, 
homeward  bound.  The  men  in  the  cabin  consulted 
together  all  the  afternoon,  and  at  last  the  skipper  said, 
"  Get  the  anchor  up,  we  will  go  home." 

Every  man  sprang  to  duty.  The  cheerful  chanty 
was  roared  out,  and  heard  above  the  howl  of  the  gale. 
The  cable  held  very  hard,  and  when  it  surged  over, 
the  windlass  sent  the  men  flying  about  the  deck,  as 
if  a  galvanic  battery  had  been  applied  to  their  hands. 
The  vessel's  head  was  often  buried  in  the  solid  seas, 
and  the  men,  soaked  and  sweating,  yelled  out  hoarse- 
ly, "  Paddy  on  the  Railway,"  and  "  We  're  Homeward 
Bound,"  while  they  tugged  at  the  brakes,  and  wound 
the  long,  hard  cable  in,  inch  by  inch. 

With  a  jerk  and  a  jump  the  anchor  parted  its  hold 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.       313 

on  the  rough  bottom,  away  we  drifted  to  leeward, 
winding  in  cable  and  chain,  and  soon  the  shining 
anchor  fluke  appeared.  "  Up  jib  and  foresail ;  take 
the  wheel,  Ned,  west  half  north,  let  her  go !  "  we  had 
left  our  last  berth  in  the  Grand  Banks,  and  were 
really  going  home. 

A  full  sheet,  a  flowing  sail,  and  steady  piping  wind 
were  in  our  favor.  We  bent  the  new  sails  and  scud 
with  a  cracking  breeze.  Day  and  night  we  ran. 
Never  did  a  sharp  schooner  cut  her  way  to  Yankee 
land  faster  than  we  did.  The  mountain  waves  curled 
and  thundered  on  our  quarter.  The  vessel  went 
sometimes  quarter  of  a  mile  on  the  long  running 
seas.  The  tide  was  with  us,  and  we  flew  at  the  rate 
of  twelve  miles  an  hour,  for  three  days.  Then  we 
put  more  sail  on,  and  as  there  was  no  fear  of  capsiz- 
ing, we  fairly  flew  over  the  hills  and  valleys  of  water. 

At  the  end  of  the  fourth  day  we  made  calcula- 
tions and  observations  as  to  our  whereabouts.  The 
Captain  said,  two  hundred  miles  south-west  of  Sable 
Island.  Others  said,  on  the  western  banks,  and  all 
laughed  at  my  idea,  of  walking  the  plank  sidewalk 
of  Provincetown,  the  next  night.  It  had  always  been 
my  custom  to  keep  a  log  of  the  important  winds,  tides, 
courses  and  tacks,  and  now  I  knew  from  indications 
that  appeared,  that  I  was  right.  We  were  in  perfect 
condition  to  enter  port;  this  was  Saturday  night. 
Every  time  I  had  the  wheel  I  edged  the  vessel  to  the 
North  half  a  point,  yet  always  gave  the  man  that  re- 
lieved me,  the  old  course  I  had  told  to  me.  No  one 
but  myself  knew  of  this  deviation,  but  I  was  confident 


314       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

that  I  was  pointing  the  vessel  straight  for  home.  "We 
-entered  a  fog  bank  which  we  sailed  through  in  three 
hours ;  out  from  darkness  into  light,  we  looked  back 
at  the  thick,  solid  bank  of  fog,  and  then  ahead.  The 
bright  rays  of  a  warm  October  sun,  gleamed  in  the 
noonday.  We  spoke  a  brig  at  one  o'clock  and  learned 
that  she  had  left  the  shore  that  very  morning.  The 
skipper  and  crew  stared  with  astonishment,  and  ex- 
claimed, "*'  I'm  glad  the  "  Nason  "  has  out-run  herself. 
Hurrah,  we're  most  home.  Ned,  you  rogue,  you  have 
waxed  us  all! " 

In  less -than  an  hour,  "Land,  Ho!  I  see  the  sand 
hills  of  the  Cape  !  "  said  the  man  at  the  foremast  head. 
Lovely  weather  and  fair  wind  set  the  bunting  and  light 
sails,  and  soon  we  could  see  the  town  house  on  the 
hill. 

"  Cook,  bring  up  your  last  mince  pies  and  let  us 
finish  them,"  said  the  skipper  "  we  can't  go  below  to 
take  a  bite." 

At  sunset  we  were  at  anchor  in  the  harbor,  the 
men  were  ashore,  and  I  was  reading  the  latest  news  in 
my  favorite  boarding-house. 

Farewell,  Grand  Banks  of  Newfoundland,  lucky 
am  I  to  leave  you  forever,  without  a  mark  or  scar  on 
my  person,  and  no  dreaded  rheumatism  in  my  young 
bones.  Farewell  forever.  May  thy  mountain  surges 
sing  soft,  sweet  requiems  over  the  resting  places  of 
those  whom  storms,  tempests,  and  wild  mishaps  have 
laid  on  thy  shores ;  and  may  thy  waters  yield  a  large 
dividend  to  all  adventurous  bankers  who  seek  to  draw 
forth  their  rich  deposits. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       315 

We  received  our  checks  the  next  day,  and  on  pre- 
senting them  at  the  bank,  they  were  quickly  cashed. 
Some  did  not  know  the  value  of  money,  and  could 
not  tell  a  twenty  dollar  bill,  from  a  five.  The  first 
thing  the  Irish  wanted  was  rum,  and  the  bloodsuck- 
ers that  besiege  a  man  as  soon  as  he  is  paid  off",  soon 
supplied  the  desired  article.  One  of  the  men  threw 
his  hard-earned  wages  in  the  air,  and  the  tens  and 
twenties  flew  on  the  wings  of  the  wind.  He  how- 
ever had  them  restored  to  him,  minus  a  few.  This 
is  a  specimen  of  many  a  sailor's  recklessness  when 
flush  and  full  of  liquor. 

I  recollect  McDonald,  in  the  "  Marietta."  When 
he  was  sober  and  paid  off,  I  placed  his  pile  of  green- 
backs in  a  safe  place,  and  said,  "  John,  there  are  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  you  to  keep  snug ;  here 
are  thirty  to  spend  in  a  reasonable  way.  Now,  be  a 
man  for  once,  keep  sober  and  respectable,  and  don't 
get  drunk,  like  a  hog." 

"  So  help  me,  I  '11  keep  sober  an'  go  down  to  the 
Cape  an'  marry  a  widder !  " 

Could  he  resist  temptation  ?  No !  He  made  his 
bed  in  the  gutter  that  very  night,  was  put  in  the  jail 
for  disturbing  the  peace ;  and  some  rascal  stole  the 
money,  and  placed  the  empty  pocket-book  back  in 
its  place.  He  came  to  the  vessel  the  next  day  with 
black  eyes,  swollen  visage,  and  had  only  the  benefit 
of  a  clean  shave,  and  pair  of  new  pants,  for  his  sum- 
mer's work.  He  was  a  hard  character,  yet  obeyed 
me  like  a  child  when  sober  or  half  drunk  ;  but  when 
crazy  drunk  the  devil  was  in  him.    A  dirk-knife  blade 


316       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s^Life. 

had  been  broken  short  off  in  his  hip  bone,  ribs  and 
finger  bones  had  been  broken  in  night  rows.  He  could 
walk  on  his  toes,  dance  any  kind  of  jig,  or  shuffle, 
ship  and  unship  his  hip  bones,  and  jump  bounties  as 
well  as  any  body.  He  fell  from  a  wharf  thirty-five 
feet  in  height,  and  his  head  narrowly  grazed  a  large 
spar  that  lay  near  by.  His  head  and  shoulders  were 
buried  in  the  mud,  and  the  nimble  legs  and  feet  were 
waving  in  the  air,  as  we  pulled  him  out,  just  in  time 
to  prevent  suffocation.  He  was  not  hurt  in  the  least, 
and  asked  for  more  rum  as  soon  as  his  lips  were  cleared 
of  mud. 

If  such  a  case,  and  it  is  but  one  of  many,  will  not 
serve  as  a  warning  to  young  seamen  and  others,  to 
touch  not,  taste  not,  the  accursed  thing,  then  all  warn- 
ings are  useless.  Strong  drink  is  the  fearful  enemy 
of  the  sailor,  and  yet  they  will  toss  off  the  full  glass, 
and  exclaim,  "  Here  goes  another  nail  in  my  coffin ; 
drink  my  health  till  the  day  of  my  death."  There  is 
a  mingling  of  tragedy  and  comedy  in  such  a  scene, 
and  I  have  often  been  struck  with  a  cold  shudder,  as  I 
have  looked  upon  the  image  of  God  thus  polluted. 

I  tarried  in  Provincetown  until  the  steamer  sailed. 
It  was  a  most  beautiful  day  ;  the  air  was  clear  and 
dry  ;  a  short,  pleasant  run  brought  us  to  the  wharf 
at  Boston.  No  one  was  sick  this  time  ;  every  passen- 
ger enjoyed  the  trip  to  the  utmost.  I  immediately 
posted  off  to  the  Quincy  House,  and  was  speedily 
rejuvenated  by  those  excellent  appliances  which  every 
well-regulated  hotel  has  always  at  hand.  I  was  then 
ready  for  home,  and  not  long  in  reaching  it.    How 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       317 

pleasant  it  is  to  come  from  sea,  where  the  eye  for  four 
months  has  seen  nothing  but  fish,  vessels,  fog,  and 
water,  and  to  step  ashore  and  enjoy  the  fruits  of 
the  well  cultivated  land.  People  may  talk  of  the 
splendid  fruits  of  the  tropics,  but  the  productions  of 
the  temperate  zone  far  exceed  them. 

I  started  away  from  home  to  make  a  last  visit  to 
numerous  friends,  intending  after  that  to  seek  my  for- 
tune in  the  Southern  States,  and  establish  myself  in 
business.  I  soon  found  a  brig  bound  to  the  port  of 
Mobile,  and  engaged  a  berth  as  second  mate,  expect- 
ing to  sail  on  Christmas  morning.  The  day  came, 
an  awful  stormy  one,  and  the  brig  was  to  haul  into 
the  stream  with  all  hands  aboard,  stay  there  until  the 
weather  cleared  off  fine,  and  then  sail.  I  told  the 
Captain  I  should  not  come  on  any  such  terms,  "  lay 
out  there,  fussing  about,  on  the  last  Christmas  day  I 
might  ever  spend  a,t  home  or  within  hundreds  of 
miles  of  Boston,"  and  in  spite  of  all  threats,  threw  my 
luggage  on  the  wharf  and  soon  had  it  snug  in  the 
"  Home."  The  "  Open  Sea  "  sailed  that  day,  and  as  I 
read  of  her  departure,  I  only  wished  her  good  luck. 

I  then  shipped  before  the  mast  on  board  the  Avon- 
dale,  a  staunch  craft  that  rode  out  the  terrible  gale 
in  the  Gulf  Stream,  when  the  "  Central  America  " 
foundered.  It  was  a  pleasant  day  when  we  hauled 
out  from  Long  wharf,  and  loosed  our  frozen  canvas  to 
the  wind  ;  but  the  weather,  towards  sunset,  began  to 
be  bitter  cold.  As  I  overhauled  the  fore-royal  clew- 
line, I  looked  back  on  the  snow-covered  land,  and 
rocky  coast.    I  could  tell  the  exact  locality  of  my 


318       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

little  home,  where  cheerful  fires  were  burning,  and 
the  family  were  reading  or  busy  in  preparing  their 
evening  meal.  The  sun  had  settled  behind  the  dreary, 
gray  clouds,  and  the  wind  that  blew  through  our  thick 
garments,  sent  its  chilly  breath  into  our  very  bones. 
Our  cargo  consisted  of  soap,  furniture,  wooden  ware, 
buck  shot,  whiskey  and  ale,  and  as  the  cargo  was  light 
the  vessel  was  half  out  of  water  "  flying  light,"  as 
seamen  say.  At  midnight  we  began  to  take  in  sail, 
and  reef  her  down  ;  then  began  the  hardest  gale  and 
the  coldest  weather  known  on  the  coast  for  a  number 
of  years,  continuing  from  the  third  to  the  tenth  of 
January,  and  although  we  were  running  before,  the 
wind,  we  were  soon  covered  with  white  ice. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  such  an  experience  would 
caiise  us  to  look  impatiently  for  a  warmer  climate, 
and  with  joy  we  hailed  the  warm  water  of  the  stream. 
There,  the  cold  air  drawing  the  heat  from  the  water, 
produced  a  thick,  brown  mist,  that  covered  the  ocean. 
The  gale  shifted  to  south-east,  and  back  again  to  north- 
west, raising  a  terrible  sea.  Ten  times  we  were  blown 
across  the  Gulf  stream,  and  our  canvas,  excepting  the 
upper  light  sails,  was  blown  to  ribbons.  We  put  the 
wheel  amidships  and  scud  along  under  bare  poles, 
seventy-four  hours.  A  sea  stove  to  toothpicks  our 
only  boat,  and  filled  the  cabin  with  its  tons  of  water. 
The  red  hot  stoves  were  upset  twice,  and  between 
fire  and  water  we  were  well  baptized.  Every  man 
expected  to  meet  death  before  daylight.  Our  vessel 
was  carried  on  the  top  of  the  mountain  waves,  like  a 
chip,  and  then  plunged  into  the  hollow  of  the  sea. 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life.       319 

There  was  no  laughing,  joking,  or  work  done  ;  we 
were  powerless  in  the  toils  of  the  terrible  sea,  hoping 
for  the  best.  On  we  scudded  ;  a  single  turn  of  the 
wheel  would  have  sent  us  into  eternity.  We  had  suf- 
fered for  twelve  days ;  our  hands  were  frozen  white, 
yet  we  were  not  alone  in  our  misery.  At  length  the 
gale  abated,  the  long  mountain  waves  calmed  down, 
and  with  our  spars  and  rigging  a  mass  of  knots  and 
broken  wood,  we  lay  hove-to  off  Charleston,  our  first 
port  of  entry. 


320       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

Passing  Fort  Sumter  —  Genuine  Ethiopian  Minstrels — Cape  Ann 
Boys  Near  By  —  Charleston  after  the  War  —  Off  Again  —  At 
Georgetown  —  Loading  Heavy  Above  and  Below  —  A  Bushel 
in  a  Peck  Measure  —  A  Thought  of  Danger  Ahead  —  Warnings 
—  The  Risk  Accepted  —  At  Sea  —  The  Pumps  going  Day  and 
Night  —  We  Arrive  near  Boston  —  Approach  of  a  Gale  —  The 
Midnight  Alarm  —  The  Canvas  Covered  with  Ice,  and  Flying 
Loose  —  Driven  to  Sea  Again — Desperate  Condition  —  Pumps 
Clogged  with  Tar  —  Seven  Feet  of  Water  in  the  Hold  —  All 
Hope  of  Saving  the  Vessel  Despaired  of. 


UR  storm-tossed  vessel  glided  up  the  muddy 
j^^^  harbor,  under  three  small  sails,  passing  slowly 
^^l^r^  and  safely  the  sunken  stone  fleet,  the  long 
sandy  beaches,  and  near  to  Sumter,  then  a  heap  of 
rubbish  and  ruins  on  the  sea-face  side.  My  log-book 
that  I  have  always  kept  and  preserved,  says  "  On  the 
13th  of  January,  1866,  arrived  off  Charleston.  We 
are  all  charmed  with  the  beauty  of  nature ;  it  seems 
as  though  we  had  stepped  from  a  watery,  yawning 
grave  into  heaven.  We  are  in  company  with  a 
barque  from  London,  England.  I  am  at  the  wheel. 
The  pilot  waves  his  hand,  close  to  Sumter,  and  we 
pass  up  the  shoal  harbor,  keeping  in  the  ship  channel, 
past  the  guard  ship,  steamers,  monitors,  batteries,  and 
many  vessels,  and  anchor  off  Keer's  wharf.  Our 
frozen  feet  and  hands  will  soon  recover,  then  we  will 
discharge  cargo." 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       321 

Yes,  we  were  safe  and  had  made  a  good  run  to  our 
destined  port.  The  gale  disabled  and  lost  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty  vessels.  Some  were  forty  days  from 
New  York  to  Charleston,  coming  in  nearly  wrecked 
or  disabled.  Six  steamers  were  used  up,  and  the  coast 
lined  with  wrecks,  made  by  this,  the  most  fearful  gale 
of  the  season. 

We  were  soon  discharging  our  cargo,  and  the  half 
clad,  dirty  negroes  were  jumping  at  the  prospect  of 
earning  a  few  dollars.  They  had  rolls  of  confederate 
script,  and  gave  hundred  dollar  bills  for  the  leavings 
of  the  cook's  galley  or  cabin  table. 

"  Dis  'federit  scrip  aint  no  count,  Massa ;  'aint  wurt 
my  spit.  I  seed  old  Sherman  'way  up  to  Columbia. 
Oh,  did  n't  de  rotten  shot  (shell)  fly  den.  My  old 
massa  no  make  dis  chile  hoe  any  more." 

Such  was  their  usual  talk,  accompanied  by  broad 
grins  and  elevated  shoulders,  as  they  walked  about  in 
their  rags.  The  sailors  went  every  night  to  the  street 
where  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  the  poor  negroes 
were  supported  on  Government  rations,  and  congre- 
gated beneath  large  roofed  sheds.  The  free  negroes 
were  in  ecstacies  over  their  newly-found  freedom,  and 
the  best  performances  of  the  Christys,  and  Morris 
Brothers  sank  into  insignificance,  when  compared 
with  the  droll  actions  and  singing  of  the  ragged 
crowd  before  me.     I  fairly  screamed  with  laughter. 

While  the  dancing  and  singing  were  in  progress, 
groups  of  men,  mostly  seamen,  stood  about,  all  highly 
entertained,  and  when  fine  looking  black  women  danc- 
ing round,  passed  them,  they  would  slip  pieces  of  to- 


322       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life. 

bacco  into  their  hands,  pat  them  on  their  backs,  and 
cheer  them  with  such  expressions  as, — 

"  Go  in  there,  Sal.'' 

"  Hoe  her  down,  Molly." 

"  Go  in,  aunty  ;  I  '11  bet  on  you." 

"  Don't  wriggle  so  hard,  old  gal." 

"  Now  you  are  putthig." 

The  men  sung  louder  and  faster.  The  women  wrig- 
gled and  danced,  contorting  their  bodies  in  every 
shape.  The  power  they  exerted  was  as  great  as  they 
would  have  put  forth,  had  they  been  called  to  duty  in 
the  field. 

I  left  the  dusky  crowd,  still  dancing  and  shuffling, 
the  refrains  of  their  weird,  and  sometimes  sweet  and 
plaintive  songs  floating  on  the  midnight  air  over  the 
calm  water,  and  retired  to  my  bunk. 

A  northern  fishing  vessel  with  a  cargo  of  oranges 
and  cigars,  lay  near  our  bows,  with  a  company  of 
Cape  Ann  boys  on  her  deck.  They  shared  their  fruit 
and  tobacco  with  us,  and  we  had  a  good  social  time  to- 
gether. I  hold  in  grateful  remembrance  the  young 
men  who  then  sailed  in  the  "  Grapeshot."  She  went 
north,  and  I  was  sorry  when  we  parted  company. 

I  wandered  outside  of  the  city  of  Charleston.  The 
houses  of  the  wealthy  were  well  built,  and  had  charm- 
ing surroundings.  The  shrubbery  and  flowers  were 
beautiful.  The  Palmetto  tree  waved  its  dark  foliage 
in  the  warm  air,  children  played  with  the  colored  ser- 
vants, or  rolled  in  the  thick  green  grass,  and  where 
it  was  clipped  they  played  with  dogs  and  parrots. 
The  Orphan  Asylum  was  the  prettiest  and  most  sub- 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life,       323 

stantial  building  that  met  my  view.  The  business 
streets  were  dull  of  trade,  and  I  saw  not  more  than 
forty  young  American  men  in  the  city.  The  race- 
course was  converted  into  a  cemetery,  and  nearly 
every  woman  was  clad  in  mourning  —  a  sad  evidence 
of  the  deplorable  results  of  the  war. 

We  sailed  for  Georgetown,  with  a  clear  sky  and  fair 
wind,  and  the  next  night  entered  the  Peedee  river. 
By  good  luck  and  a  fresh  breeze  we  came  at  anchor, 
below  the  Palmetto  Mills.  The  course  of  the  vessel 
from  Charleston  Bar  to  Georgetown  Bar,  was  N.  N.  E. 
one  half  North,  and  up  the  crooked  Peedee,  we  went  in 
all  points.  We  hailed  with  joy  the  plenty  of  fresh 
river  water  that  flowed  by  our  side,  and  we  washed 
our  bodies  and  clothing  in  the  soft  water.  I  would 
rather  have  a  good  bath  in  fresh  water  than  a  dinner, 
and  for  a  beverage  I  have  always  adhered  to  pure 
water.  I  have  drank  water  from  the  ship's  casks 
when  it  held  together  like  treacle,  and  at  other  times 
when  I  was  obliged  to  hold  my  nostrils  with  one  hand 
and  pour  it  down  with  the  other ;  have  been  on  half 
allowance,  endured  tormenting  thirst,  and  had  no 
water  at  all.  Well  I  know  its  value.  The  "  Siah  " 
and  two  other  vessels,  were  loading  at  the  Mills.  We 
furled  the  sail  and  went  to  the  post-office,  somewhat 
expecting  letters  from  home,  but  were  disappointed. 
Pitch  pine  is  the  lumber  that  is  most  cut,  sawed  and 
shipped  at  this  point,  some  of  the  large  sticks  con- 
taining seven  hundred  feet  of  lumber.  Tar,  rosin  and 
turpentine  are  stored  at  places  ready  to  ship,  and  con- 
stitute the  principal  business  of  Georgetown. 


324       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life. 

We  hauled  in  to  the  wharf  and  commenced  loading, 
the  Captain  hurrying  the  work  forward  with  all  pos- 
sible haste.  The  lumber  was  stored  away  below  in 
tiers,  the  negro  stevedores  laboring  hard  with  bar, 
tackle,  and  handspike  to  put  each  log  snugly  in  its 
proper  place.  Then  it  was  piled  on  deck  until  our 
load  was  a  few  feet  higher  than  the  rail  of  the  vessel. 
We  told  the  Captain  that  he  was  overloading,  but 
our  opinions  were  thought  of  no  value,  and  he  gave 
us  our  choice,  to  go  ashore,  or  go  to  Boston  in  the 
brig.  One  of  our  men  quickly  went  to  another  ves- 
sel, but  the  remainder  did  not  want  it  said  that  they 
were  mean  enough  to  leave  the  vessel  after  she  was 
loaded.  Board  was  four  dollars  a  day  at  the  public 
house  ;  and  to  be  knocking  around  among  everybody 
was  something  I  cared  not  to  do.  Taking  all  these 
things  into  consideration,  we  consented  to  accompany 
the  vessel  to  Boston,  notwithstanding  we  thought  the 
trip  a  risky  one.  After  this,  judge  of  our  astonish- 
ment in  beholding  two  large  scows  loaded  with  barrels 
of  tar  and  rosin  come  to  our  side,  which  in  two  days 
was  stowed  in  the  breaks,  where  the  lumber  could  not 
pack.  Two  hundred  and  thirty  barrels  were  taken 
aboard,  and  this  last  act  of  the  Captain  settled  the  al- 
ready over-loaded  vessel  too  deep  in  the  water.  It 
seemed  like  an  attempt  to  crowd  a  bushel  into  a  peck 
measure.  How  the  latter  would  stand  such  treat- 
ment remained  to  be  seen. 

The  bow  ports  were  miserably  caulked,  the  water 
trickled  in  fast,  and  "  keep  the  pumps  agoing,"  was 
the  order.     In  vain  I  asked  for  my  wages  and  dis- 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       325 

charge.  The  Captain  had  no  money  just  then,  and 
he  argued  that  if  the  brig  rode  out  one  heavy  gale, 
with  eight  feet  of  logwood  on  her  deck,  she  could  go 
to  Boston  with  the  load  she  had ;  she  could  not  sink, 
and  why  should  I  be  alarmed  for  her  safety  when  he 
was  not.  The  mate  told  the  Captain  his  sails  were 
poor,  that  he  had  not  provision  enough,  and  was  over- 
loaded. But  in  spite  of  all  warning  he  hurried  the 
vessel  into  the  stream.  I  resolved  to  ship  in  one  of 
the  other  vessels,  and  lose  my  wages,  but  they  were 
full  of  men,  and  I  would  only  have  jumped  from 
the  frying  pan  into  the  fire,  for  the  brig  that  I 
wished  to  go  in,  was  lost  with  all  hands,  on  a  reef  in 
the  West  Indies ;  the  schooner  was  dismasted,  and 
the  barque  narrowly  escaped  foundering  at  sea. 

By  some  lucky  slant,  we  might  reach  Boston  har- 
bor in  safety  ;  but  there  were  but  ghosts  of  chances  in 
our  favor.  I  received  a  letter  from  home,  and  quick- 
ly answered  it,  feeling  very  despondent.  We  sailed 
as  soon  as  we  had  filled  the  water  casks,  and  for  five 
days  Fere  working  and  beating  about  the  river  trying 
to  get  to  the  mouth.  On  the  twenty-first  of  February 
we  cleared  the  bar,  the  pilot  took  his  leave  and  we 
sailed  out  into  the  open  sea.  We  slept  in  the  deck- 
house and  ate  in  the  cabin.  Two  of  the  crew  were 
down  sick  with  fever  and  ague,  and  the  mates  were 
growling  and  fighting  most  of  the  time.  We  encoun- 
tered a  storm,  but  had  to  reef  only  once  before  it  passed 
away.  The  men  recovered  and  took  their  turns  at 
the  pump.  I  was  the  only  one  who  had  any  medi- 
cine, or  materials  with  which  to  dress  the  men's 
wounds  when  they  were  cut  or  bruised. 


326       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life, 

My  experience  leads  me  to  say,  at  this  point,  most 
emphatically,  that  law  should  make  it  the  imperative 
duty  of  some  one  to  thoroughly  inspect  every  vessel 
before  it  leaves  port ;  to  see  that  it  is  well  provided 
with  everything  that  may  possibly  be  required  for  the 
safety  of  the  vessel  and  crew.  A  neglect  of  such  pro- 
vision should  be  met  with  heavy  penalty  upon  the 
master  or  owners. 

We  kept  company  with  the  ship  "  Golden  Fleece," 
two  days,  had  good  weather,  and  at  last  crossed  the 
Gulf.  The  tide  rip  was  plainly  seen,  and  we  came 
from  rough  into  smooth  water.  On  we  went,  pumps 
going  night  and  day,  and  the  vessel  making  a  north 
east  course  as  usual,  until  the  sandy  shores  of  Long 
Island  lay  before  us,  and  we  were  running  up  the 
land  with  every  sail  set,  and  a  warm  southwest  wind. 
I  could  see  the  windows  of  the  houses  ashore,  re- 
flecting the  splendor  of  the  setting  sun,  and  as  I 
looked  at  the  rugged  masses  of  clouds  gathering 
in  the  northern  sky,  tinged  with  fiery  red,  I  told  the 
Captain  that  we  were  about  to  have  a  terrible  gale  ; 
that  he  had  better  seek  the  land  for  a  shelter,  the 
provisions  and  water  being  nearly  exhausted.  The 
men  before  the  mast  told  him  the  same,  and  made 
him  feel  uneasy.  The  mates  were  full  of  fun  when 
they  saw  the  land  so  near,  and  said  "  We  '11  be  lying 
at  the  wharf  in  Boston  to-morrow,"  and  enjoyed,  pros- 
pectively, a'glorious  time. 

There  were  many  vessels  about  us,  most  of  them 
bound  ofif  the  coast,  and  for  that  reason  all  right, 
whether  it  blew  high  or  low.    At  eight  o'clock,  we, 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       327 

in  the  mates'  watch,  went  to  our  bunks  and  laid  down 
to  sleep.  The  night  was  dark  and  calm,  and  the  brig 
lay  about  two  miles  from  land  with  every  sail  set,  just 
having  steerage  way  over  the  water.  Despite  the 
rattle  and  bang  of  the  pumps  we  fell  asleep,  and  had 
got  in  a  nice,  warm  doze,  when  we  heard  the  Captain 
shout,  — 

"Turn  out,  men,  turn  out  for  God's  sake;  don't 
stop  a  second  for  your  lives  !  " 
•  We  slid  the  door  back  and  almost  fell  down  in 
utter  fear  at  our  view  of  the  danger.  The  vessel  was 
rushing  straight  out  to  sea  under  the  fury  of  a  terrific 
gale.  Decks  and  rigging  were  sheathed  with  ice,  and 
we  were  repeatedly  thrown  down  on  the  slippery  lum- 
ber. We  clewed  up  the  torn  canvas,  and  ran  up  the 
icy  shrouds  in  our  night  garments.  I  was  not  cold 
at  all ;  the  horror  of  our'  situation  drove  all  thoughts 
of  cold  from  me,  and  I  laid  out  on  the  icy  tossing 
yards  and  done  my  best  to  furl  the  split  and  frozen 
sails.  Having  done  all  I  could,  I  returned  rapidly  to 
the  deck,  and  dressed  myself,  as  did  the  other  men, 
and  then  remarked  to  the  Captain  that  he  had  better 
run  for  New  York  and  save  his  vessel. 

The  gale  was  exactly  from  the  north ;  the  weather 
bitter  cold,  and  the  light  on  Montauk  Point  gleamed 
like  a  ball  of  fire,  north  north-east  from  us,  six  miles 
astern,  we  could  make  a  harbor  either  in  the  lee  of 
Long  Island,  or  the  Breakwater,  but  the  Captain  paid 
no  attention  to  our  warning. 

Under  close-reefed  topsail  we  flew  before  the  gale, 
the  Captain  was  fearful  of  striking  the  shoals,  but  we 


328       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

were  miles  away  from  slioal  water.  Oh,  the  terror  of 
that  night,  —  the  seas  washing  clean  over  the  hull, 
the  sails  blown  to  tatters,  the  pumps  choked  with  tar 
from  the  broken  barrels,  and  all  the  heavy  lumber  on 
deck  working  loose  and  tearing  the  vessel  to  pieces. 
Thus  passed  this  terrible  night,  and  daylight  came  in 
due  season  to  show  us  clearly  the  horrors  of  our  situ- 
ation. 

We  were  alone  on  the  storm-lashed  ocean,  and 
worked  to  secure  the  vessel,  until  the  sweat  rolled 
from  our  faces  like  rain.  What  a  contrast  this  scene 
presented,  to  the  calm  weather  we  had  enjoyed  the  day 
before.  Now  we  were  in  a  glorious  gale.  Had  not 
the  weather  this  time  played  us  a  scurvy  trick,  almost 
in  sight  of  home,  to  turn  upon  us,  and  send  our  deep 
loaded  vessel  out  into  the  open  sea  with  canvas  torn 
and  the  pumps  throwing  water  most  of  the  time  ? 
Three  days  and  nights  we  pumped  for  life,  stopping 
every  twenty  minutes  to  clear  the  boxes  from  the  stick- 
ing tar,  and  at  length  the  alarming  fact  was  spread 
that  there  were  seven  feet  0/  water  in  the  hold. 

All  hope  of  saving  the  vessel  was  at  an  end.  I  took 
an  observation  slyly,  and  set  it  down  that  we  were  two 
hundred  and  ten  miles  south-east  of  Block  Island. 
My  log  book  and  pencils  were  next  to  my  under-gar- 
ments,  and  the  former  is  here  before  me  now  as  I 
write.  It  has  been  with  me  many  trips  ;  and,  batter- 
ed, old  and  defaced  as  it  looks,  tells  its  own  strange 
story. 

On  the  sixth  of  March  we  cut  away  the  mainmast, 
and  tried  to  throw  ofif  the  deck  load.     The  mate  ran 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       329 

up  and  down  the  deck  and  cried,  "  God  help  us  !  now 
we  are  surely  lost !  "  and  great  tears  rolled  down  his 
cheeks.  We  saw  a  large  ship  running  before  the  gale 
not  four  miles  from  us  ;  we  set  the  colors  on  the  fore- 
mast, union  down,  but  she  paid  no  attention  to  us.  A 
schooner  also  that  lay  hove  to,  in  sight,  never  offered 
to  come  near.  As  I  looked  at  the  flag  that  snapped 
and  cracked  on  the  pole  at  the  foremast  head,  I 
dashed  a  tear  from  my  eye,  for  I  now  fully  realized 
the  danger  we  were  in.  I  grew  calmer  as  the  men 
grew  more  wild  and  despairing,  and  felt  that  I  must 
do  all  that  I  could. 


330       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

The  Vessel  Breaking  Up  —  We  Take  to  the  Boat  —  Engulfed  by 
Heavy  Seas  —  Presence  of  Mind  —  The  Floating  Lumber  —  Light- 
ening the  Boat  —  The  Return  to  the  Wreck  —  The  Boat  finally 
Lost  —  Ten  Feet  of  Deck  our  only  Hope  —  Eight  Days  and 
Nights  of  Terrible  Suffering  —  A  Despairing  Crew  —  Our  Foot- 
hold Giving  Way  —  Praying  Men  —  Provisions  Exhausted  —  We 
are  Crazed  for  Want  of  Food— A  Fearful  Thought  — The  Glad 
Cry  of"  Sail,  Ho  "  —  The  Men  wild  with  Joy  —  We  are  Rescued 
by  the  '*  Peerless  "  and  "  Winter  Bird  "  —  Saved. 

UT  what  were  we  to  do,  to  escape  from  this 
total  wreck  ?  We  had  forty-four  small  cakes 
of  bread,  eight  gallons  of  water,  and  twenty 
pounds  of  raw  salt  beef.  The  officers  and  men  were 
on  the  same  grade,  and  all  began  to  anticipate  the 
horrors  that  were  in  store  for  them.  The  brig  was 
covered  by  every  sea  that  came  thundering  down  upon 
her.  She  was  under  the  water  forward,  and  the  only 
place  of  safety  was  near  the  wheel.  Four  feet  of  water 
was  on  the  cabin  floor,  and  still  we  lay  broadside  to 
the  howling  gale  and  overpowering  seas. 

The  cargo  was  washing  out  from  the  bursted  deck ; 
lumber  and  barrels  of  tar  were  drifting  away;  the 
lower  rigging  of  the  foremast  was  fast  breaking,  and 
the  heavy  timber  was  being  thrown  around  the  ves- 
sel like  straw.  I  told  the  Captain  we  must  take  the 
old  rotten  boat  that  we  had  procured  in  George- 
town, place  our  little  stock  of  provision  and  water 
therein,  and  lay  under  the  lee  of  the  brig,  that  was 


> 


Seven  Years  of  a  Satlof^s  Life,       331 

likely  to  break  to  pieces,  at  any  moment.  He  took  my 
advice,  and  the  boat  was  placed  where  she  could  be 
launched  at  a  moment's  warning,  with  the  provisions 
lashed  safely  on. 

The  mate  walked  the  little  place  by  the  wheel, 
wringing  his  hands,  and  crying,  "  Oh,  my  mother,  my 
mother,  your  boy  is  lost,  I  '11  never  see  the  old  home 
again !  "  The  cook  prayed  with  great  fervor.  The 
second  mate  who  had  left  a  young  wife  at  home  was 
exclaiming,  "  Oh,  my  dear  wife,  we  '11  meet  in  a  better 
world  where  no  storms  can  come.  Oh,  I  would  give 
all  my  wealth  to  be  safe  on  shore." 

"  You  '11  be  kind  enough,  to  stop  that  kind  of  talk, 
the  pair  of  you  ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  Recollect  who 
caulked  the  bow-ports  in  such  a  hurry  when  we  were 
in  port.     Don't  be  alarmed,  my  lads." 

I  talked  with  the  Captain.  He  was  calm  and  care- 
less ;  and  then,  while  the  men  were  getting  the  boat 
into  the  water,  I  threw  some  ropes  over  the  stern,  and 
lashed  the  wheel  hard  down,  next  lighted  the  binna- 
cle lamp,  which  would  burn  for  a  long  time,  and 
when  the  terrified  mates  in  the  boat  cried  out,  "  Jump 
Ned  ;  she 's  rolling  over,  you  '11  be  left  behind  if  you 
don't  come  quick,"  I  ran  and  threw  myself  into  the 
boat,  which  was  filled  to  the  gunwale  with  bags  of 
clothing  and  the  hundred  and  one  useless  articles 
that  a  man  in  his  hurry  might  pick  up. 

The  water  came  into  the  frail  boat  every  moment. 
"  Throw  over  every  useless  thing  that  is  in  this  boat," 
I  cried,  ''  save  your  watches,  charts,  provisions,  and 
water,  and  dump  everything  else." 


332       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

This  was  done,  and  the  boat  rode  lighter  on  the 
seas.  *'  Now  ship  your  oars,  and  pull  away  from  these 
sticks  of  timber ;  if  they  strike  the  boat  we  are  all 
lost,  sure."  In  doing  this  we  cleared  the  wreck,  and 
the  dangerous  network  of  lumber. 

"  Ned,  you  take  charge  of  this  boat,"  said  the  Cap- 
tain. "  You  are  cool,  and  not  so  weak  with  fear  as 
those  fellows." 

I  did  as  I  was  directed,  and  the  men  pulled  hard  at 
the  oars.  The  old  rotten  boat  flew  on  the  tops  of 
the  waves,  two  men  bailing  water  all  the  time.  We 
ran  for  an  hour  to  the  south  and  west,  and  then  horrid 
darkness  spread  its  black  hand  over  the  sea.  The 
dark  waves  rolled  in  solid  masses  of  water,  and  broke 
in  white  foam  above  and  around  us.  We  were  wet 
through,  cold  and  hungry,  and  were  going  away  from 
our  only  breakwater,  the  wreck. 

"  I  am  going  back  to  the  wreck,  sir,"  said  I. 

"  Go  ahead,"  was  the  only  response  ;  and  by  a  lucky 
movement,  I  put  the  boat,  head  to  the  wind  and  sea 
without  capsizing. 

But  how  to  find  the  wreck  again,  was  the  question, 
amid  the  thick  darkness  of  the  night.  Twining  a  flag 
around  me  to  keep  the  bitter  cold  wind  from  freezing 
me  to  death,  I  grasped  an  oar  with  one  hand,  and 
shielding  my  eyes  with  the  other,  sought  to  discover 
the  drifting  hull,  at  the  same  time  watching  with 
sharp  eyes  the  dreaded  sticks  of  timber  and  tar  bar- 
rels that  came  down  on  the  old  boat.  The  long  tim- 
bers, when  they  came  near  us  broadside  on,  broke  the 
force  of  the  waves,  and  the  weary  men  could  rest  for 
a  few  moments. 


Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life.       333 

Hour  after  hour  in  dread  anxiety  we  pulled  slowly 
to  windward.  Every  eye  was  seeking  the  bull  of  the 
vessel,  but  as  I  stood  up  I  was  the  first  to  see  the  light 
that  I  had  left  burning  in  the  binnacle.  I  hoped  and 
prayed  that  it  was  a  light  in  the  cabin  of  some  vessel 
hove  to,  and  riding  out  the  gale,  but  it  was  ovir  own 
light,  and  we  soon  reached  the  wreck,  and  were  pull- 
ing about  to  keep  us  from  being  chilled  to  death. 

We  pulled  under  her  lee  for  two  days  and  nights, 
dodging  the  timber,  and  debris  of  the  wreck  that 
floated  out.  My  navy  ditty  box  that  contained  more 
than  four  hundred  photographs  of  my  home  friends 
and  acquaintances,  together  with  papers,  pistol,  and 
little  trinkets,  was  swept  by  me  on  a  rushing  wave. 
The  box  was  well  locked,  and  water  tight.  I  suppose 
some  crew  that  have  found  it  would  like  to  know  just 
where  that  article  came  from,  and  to  whom  it  belongs. 
They  will  see  the  directions  on  the  inside.  Our  al- 
lowance, twice  a  day,  was  one  cake  of  bread  and  half 
a  pint  of  water,  —  small  rations  for  a  set  of  hungry 
men,  who  had  always  had  all  that  they  could  eat. 

The  gale  abated ;  it  was  time.  We  had  drifted 
into  the  Gulf  Stream,  and  the  flying  mists  were  often 
taken  for  vessels  under  sail.  All  our  hopes  were  de- 
lusive, and  we  were  out  of  the  track  of  all  vessels. 
"  Hope  on,  Hope  ever,  lads  ; "  I  cried,  "  you  aint 
dead  yet ;  don't  knuckle  to  anything  so  easy.  Cheer 
up,  and  you  will  walk  Yankee  land  again."  Thus  I 
tried  to  raise  their  downcast  spirits,  and  nerve  them 
to  exertion.  But  my  eflbrts  were  of  little  avail ;  every 
man  seemed  determined  to  look  on  the  worst  side. 


334       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life. 

The  Captain  grasped  a  rope  and  hauled  the  boat  to 
the  brig's  stern,  and  then  clambered  on  board.  The 
glorious  sun  broke  through  the  driving  mists,  and  shed 
its  genial  warmth  upon  our  wet  and  numbed  bodies. 
The  only  articles  of  use  to  us  that  we  could  find  on 
the  wreck,  were  the  royal  sail  and  its  gear,  a  hatchet, 
and  the  flag  that  was  still  flying  from  the  foremast 
head.  The  air  under  the  quarter  deck  had  raised  the 
stern  a  little  out  of  water,  and  we  could  lay  down  on 
the  top  of  the  house  in  safety.  We  left  the  old  boat 
tied  by  a  rope  to  the  quarter,  and  were  overjoyed  once 
more  to  stretch  our  cramped  and  sore  limbs  on  ten 
feet  of  walk.  The  moment  the  last  man  was  lifted 
from  the  boat,  she  was  stove  by  striking  a  stick  of 
timber.  I  jumped  into  her  and  saved  the  provision 
and  water ;  and,  as  I  sprang  to  the  friendly  rope,  the 
boat  filled  with  water,  split  its  whole  length,  and  of 
course  was  of  no  further  use  to  us. 

The  wreck  was  then  our  only  chance,  and  we  must 
stick  by  it.  Perhaps  we  might  be  seen  by  some  pas- 
sing vessel  and  taken  off"  before  we  all  perished  with 
exposure  and  hunger.  Tlie  mates  and  men  were 
despondent.  They  laid  down  on  the  water-washed 
deck  and  lamented  their  hard  fate.  With  great  effort 
the  Captain  and  myself  set  the  foresail,  and,  poor  as 
the  scant  sail  was,  it  kept  the  wreck  before  the  wind. 
He  tlien  asked  me  to  rig  braces  to  the  yard,  and  after 
much  danger  and  labor  it  was  done.  I  stood  in  the 
shaky  fore-top,  threw  the  braces  to  him,  which  they 
made  secure  to  the  main-bitts  aft;  then  I  went  to 
the  mast  head,  and  cleared  the  colors  so  that  they 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       335 

would  fly  full,  and  safely  rejoined  my  shipmates,  who, 
ashamed  at  being  outdone  by  the  smallest  man  on 
board,  were  all  anxious  to  steer.  This  was  of  little 
use,  as  the  rudder  was  mostly  out  of  water,  yet  whirl- 
ing the  wheel  gave  them  exercise,  and  kept  their  cold, 
water-soaked  bodies  warm. 

Three  men  laid  down  to  die ;  they  said  they  were 
only  prolonging  their  acute  sufferings  to  live,  and  the 
sooner  death  came,  the  more  we  who  survived  would 
have  to  eat.  At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the 
whole  deck  was  a  shattered  mass,  raised  and  broken. 
Oh,  what  a  wail  of  agony  arose  from  the  lips  of  the 
men  as  they  saw  the  vessel  break  to  pieces.  It  was 
horrible  to  look  upon.  Of  three  iron  girders  that  held 
the  sides  together,  but  one  remained,  and  when  that 
one  iron  bar  broke,  we  must  say  farewell  to  each  other 
for  this  life.  In  spite  of  washing  wave  and  cracking 
wood  I  jumped  from  one  broken  beam  to  another  and 
looked  at  the  iron  bar.  Even  when  I  was  up  to  my 
breast  in  water,  which  was  warm,  T  saw  that  the  iron 
would  stand  a  hard  strain,  for  it  was  bent  by  the  up- 
rising lumber.  With  this  assurance  I  returned  to 
the  men,  who  were  all  moving  their  lips  in  prayer, 
except  one  fellow,  who  was  making  a  slip-knot,  and 
at  the  same  time  trembling  with  terror. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  slip-knot,''  I 
asked.  "  Oh,  I  am  making  a  necklace  to  put  on 
when  I  see  that  bar  break !  " 

"  Well,  it  is  not  going  to  break,"  said  I. 

"  Oh !  thank  God,  there  is  some  hope  yet,"  cried 
the  mate.     The  cook  came  to  me  and  said,  "  I  never 


336       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life, 

hear  you  praying,  Ned.  Why  don't  you  ask  God  to 
take  us  from  this  horrid  place  ?  Oh,  Ned,  I  pray  all 
the  time." 

"  Is  there  any  need  of  crying  aloud  for  mercy  ?  "  I 
inquired.  "  The  Father's  hand  that  has  kept  me  safe 
thus  far,  will  sustain  me  to  tl\e  end.  Prayer  in 
thought  goes  as  far  with  God,  as  word  of  mouth,  and 
I  am  at  his  pleasure  here  as  much  as  if  I  was  safe  at 
home.  It  will  all  be  well  with  us,  keep  up  your 
courage." 

The  remaining  biscuits  were  shared  equally.  I  had 
three ;  and  the  hard,  dirty  little  one  that  I  have  now 
in  my  possession,  tells  its  own  story.  I  put  them  next 
to  my  heart,  covered  by  my  flannel  shirt.  When  these 
rations  were  gone,  we  must  eat  one  another,  and  the 
question  would  come  to  me,  will  my  turn  come  first  ? 

In  the  dreary  desert  of  Africa  I  had  been  in  the 
same  fix,  and  now,  with  nothing  but  a  plank  between 
myself  and  eternity,  I  was  having  a  second  dose. 
Serves  me  right,  thought  I,  for  leaving  a  good  home, 
and  kind  friends  ;  but  here  I  am  and  must  live  or  die. 
The  power  that  overrules  all  nature,  could  take  us  from 
our  misery  ;  but  it  was  a  careless  trick  that  placed  us 
here.  Our  provision  was  exhausted,  we  were  mad- 
dened for  the  want  of  food  and  drink,  yet  I  clutched 
my  last  mouthful  and  kept  it  safe. 

It  was  Saturday  night  and  the  sea  was  as  calm  as  a 
mirror.  There  was  no  hope  for  us  from  any  quarter, 
yet  we  slept  soundly  as  we  laid  in  a  heap  to  keep 
warm,  and  dreamed  of  home  and  luxuries.  Sunday 
morning  came  clear  and  bright,  with  a  light  wind 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailors  Life,      337 

and  calm  sea.  I  clambered  up  to  the  fore-topmast 
head  and  watched  the  horizon,  hour  after  hour,  while 
the  flag  of  my  country  kept  the  sun  from  my  eyes  ; 
but  I  looked  and  looked  in  vain.  I  came  down,  and 
to  the  eager  questions  that  fell  on  my  ear  I  could 
only  shake  my  head.  At  noon  the  Captain  ascended 
the  lofty  perch  and  cleared  the  flag.  He  took  a  long 
look  around  the  horizon,  and  in  slow,  joyous  tones 
shouted, 

"  Sail  ho  !  sail  ho  !  Ha,  ha,  we  're  saved  !  Cheer 
up,  boys  ;  there  are  three  vessels  coming  this  way." 

The  wild,  delirious  joy  that  the  men  exhibited  was 
past  description.  "  Where  ?  where  ?  point  her  out, 
for  God's  sake,  Captain."  "  Do  they  see  us  yet  ?  Do 
you  think  we  will  be  saved?  Great  God,  I  thank 
thee.  Hurrah  for  life  yet.  I'll  go  to  any  part  of  the 
world  in  the  vessel  that  picks  us  off,  even  if  she  is  a 
pirate,"  were  the  exclamations  that  greeted  my  ears. 

I  was  not  too  sudden  with  my  joy.  What  if  the 
vessels  should  pass  and  not  come  near  us,  thinking 
that  no  persons  were  on  that  old  wreck  ?  But  our 
colors  were  seen,  and  we  soon  saw  a  large  brig  com- 
ing, and  to  windward  was  a  schooner,  winged  out  and 
flying  like  a  dove  to  us  ;  while  far  astern  was  a  barque 
steering  east,  and  before  we  were  taken  from  tlie  wreck 
two  more  vessels  hove  in  sight.  My  log-book  says : 
"  Sunday  night.  The  brig  '  Peerless '  and  schooner 
*  Winter  Bird '  came  to  us  and  took  us  from  the  wreck. 
As  the  healthy,  able  men  sprang  to  our  deck  they 
said  :  *  Hullo,  boys  !  ye  aint  all  dead  yet.  Good  God, 
if  this  aint  the  worst  looking  wreck  we  ever  saw.'  " 


338       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

They  lifted  the  men  over  the  quarter  and  carried 
part  to  the  brig  and  others  to  the  schooner.  The 
Captain,  cook,  and  second  mate  went  to  tlie  "  Winter 
Bird,"  and  four,  including  myself,  to  the  Peerless, 
that  lay  with  her  sails  aback,  about  a  mile  to  leeward. 
These  vessels  that  had  rescued  us  had  been  driven 
from  their  regular  course  by  the  same  gale  that  had 
made  us  a  wreck.  The.  brig  "Peerless  "  was  loaded 
with  lumber,  from  Portland,  Maine,  and  bound  for  a 
West  India  market.  Its  large,  strong  boat,  propelled 
by  able  arms,  soon  placed  us  aboard  of  the  brig,  where 
we  found  a  bountiful  supper  spread  before  us.  But  I 
ate  only  a  little,  not  daring  to  let  my  appetite  mas- 
ter me,  and  took  my  food  slowly,  moistening  it  well 
witli  hot  tea.  The  three  men  ate  like  ravenous  wolves, 
and  paid  no  heed  to  any  warnings  ;  the  consequence 
was,  they  were  very  sick,  but  were  relieved  by  a 
strong  dose  of  brandy. 

We  slept  soundly  that  night,  and  the  next  morning 
could  eat  a  few  biscuits  soaked  in  coffee.  This  brig 
seemed  commissioned  by  an  overruling  Power  to  res- 
cue the  unfortunate,  when  all  hope  seemed  dead  ;  for 
during  the  voyage  before  this  one,  it  had  picked  a  crew 
from  a  vessel's  bottom,  where  they  had  been  for  five 
days.  Far  nobler  are  these  acts  of  mercy  in  saving 
human  life,  than  the  grandeur  of  the  crowned  and  ap- 
plauded conqueror  who  has  slain  thousands  of  men. 
The  consciousness  of  doing  good  is  a  constant  joy. 

The  master  of  every  vessel  should  keep  a  man  on 
the  lookout,  carefully  examine  every  old  spar  and 
wreck  that  meets  his  eye,  and  hold  by  any  vessel  that 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoy^s  Life.       339 

may  have  the  signal  of  distress  flying.  When  sea 
captains  pay  more  attention  to  these  things;  when 
they  are  less  pompous,  more  obliging  and  considerate 
of  the  wants,  comforts,  and  actual  necessities  of  their 
crews,  there  will  be  a  far  less  number  of  wrecks,  and 
losses  of  life  and  property.  There  are  many  glorious 
exceptions,  many  captains  who  are  men  ;  yet  there 
are  many  others  whose  places  are  more  properly  in 
potatoe  fields,  with  hoes  in  their  hands,  than  on  ship- 
board, with  the  lives  of  men  at  their  mercy.  May 
God  speed  the  day  of  reformation ! 


340       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 


CHAPTER   XXXIY 

A  Last  Look  at  the  "  Avondale  "  —  Another  Stiff  Breeze  —  Safe  and 
Snug  on  Board  the  "  Peerless  "  —  Extreme  Suffering  resuUing  from 
our  Exposure  on  the  Wreck  —  At  Porto  Rico  —  A  Hard  Pull  — 
Cuba  —  The  Harbor  of  St.  Jago  —  Interview  with  the  American 
Consul  —  Queer  Treatment  —  I  am  to  Return  in  the  "  Dan 
Holmes  "  —  Making  Myself  Generally  Useful  —  Sugar  Loading  — 
A  New  Song  for  Every  Hogshead  —  The  Promenado. 

^^^^ 

>%^E  glided  away  from  the  wreck  before  a  gentle 
f^Mf^  wind,  and  I  took  a  last  look  at  our  vessel 
^^^1^  -^ith  a  shudder,  that  made  me  thank  Divine 
Providence  for  his  great  mercy  in  sending  us  aid  at 
the  last  moment.  I  could  only  see  the  stern  of  the 
old  brig  and  the  foretop  above  water.  I  turned 
away  from  the  sight  of  the  floating  coffin,  and  joyously 
realized  that  I  walked  a  good  deck  of  English  plank, 
which  thought  was  soon  interrupted  by  the  Captain, 
who  spoke  to  me  from  the  cabin  door. 

Captain  Perry  was  a  kind  man,  and  an  efficient 
officer,  keeping  good  lookouts  on  his  deck,  and  his 
vessel  lightly  loaded. 

"  Don't  you  want  some  medicine,  young  man  ? " 
he  asked,  as  I  walked  up  to  him. 

"  No,  sir  ;  I  do  not  feel  the  need  of  any,"  I  replied. 

"  But  you  will  in  a  day  or  two.  If  my  memory  is 
correct,  the  other  crew  that  we  saved  Buffered  a  great 
deal  after  we  took  them  off." 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life.       341 

I  had  no  unpleasant  feelings  besides  weakness,  and 
kindly  refused  his  offer. 

During  the  third  night  after  our  rescue  a  gale  be- 
gan to  blow,  that  must  have  demolished  the  old  wreck. 
The  "  Peerless  "  ran  before  it  under  close  reefs,  and 
in  two  days'  time  rested  on  long  rolling  seas,  with 
everything  safe  and  snug.  On  the  fifteenth  of  March, 
1866,  we  were  twenty  miles  north  east  of  Bermuda 
Islands,  and  our  course  south-by-west,  as  usual. 

We  now  began  to  suffer  excruciating  pain.  Our 
bodies  appeared  like  parboiled  meat ;  our  feet  were 
swollen  and  blistered,  and  the  only  style  of  locomo- 
tion we  possessed  was  crawling  on  our  hands  and 
knees.  Our  long  exposure  on  the  wreck  had  brought 
these  conditions,  and  the  only  relief  that  our  inflamed 
feet  could  obtain  was  bathing  in  tar-water.  They 
swelled  to  a  large  size,  and  the  skin  seemed  as  if  it 
would  burst  with  the  puffed-up  flesh.  We  were  all 
four  of  us  in  this  condition,  and  the  crew  did  their 
best  to  make  us  comfortable.  Their  good  deeds  are 
fresh  in  my  memory;  may  their  life's  pathway  be 
strewn  with  roses,  and  no  thorns  impede  their  pro- 
gress to  happiness  and  prosperity. 

We  had  fair  wind  night  and  day,  and  carried  every 
sail  the  vessel  could  spread,  yet  our  speed  was  slow. 
The  "  Peerless  "  had  been  built  to  carry  a  good  load, 
and  not  to  sail  fast.  All  English  vessels  are  about  like 
her  for  speed,  seldom  going  over  nine  knots,  unless 
it  blows  a  gale.  So  we  rolled  on  our  way,  every  day 
growing  warmer.  After  three  weeks  of  pain  and  an- 
guish we  could  step  a  little,  and  at  the  end  of  the 


342       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

fourth  week  could  walk  quite  well.  "  Land  Ho ! " 
came  in  glad  tones,  from  the  mast-head,  one  after- 
noon, as  one  of  the  crew  scraped  down  the  upper 
spars,  preparatory  to  slushing;  and  the  Captain,  after 
taking  a  long  look  at  the  blue,  looming  land,  pro- 
nounced it  the  island  of  Porto  Rico  ;  and  "  check  in 
the  port  braces  ;  sway  all  up  taut,"  was  an  order  that 
every  man  gladly  obeyed. 

On  we  sailed  over  the  rippling  sea,  the  young 
moon  showing  its  slender  crescent  in  the  western  sky, 
while  the  crew  rolled  on  the  deck  house,  and  chatted 
pleasantly.  They  gave  us  pipes  and  tobacco,  and 
thus  we  enjoyed  a  social  smoke,  while  they  spun  their 
yarns  until  the  bell  called  the  watch  to  their  duties. 
The  next  morning  we  were  off  Maguyes  harbor,  and 
the  brig  was  hove  to,  off  the  high  land  ;  the  boat  was 
cleared  away  and  lowered,  and  six  of  us,  seated  at 
the  oars,  pulled  the  Captain  to  the  wharf. 

How  beautiful  the  lofty  hills  appeared,  clad  in  the 
verdure  of  the  tropics.  The  shore  was  lined  with 
trees ;  and  the  sugar-mills,  with  their  red  roofs, 
peeped  from  luxuriant  groves  of  cocoa,  acacia,  and 
bannana,  the  short  chimney  sending  out  its  black 
smoke  quite  offensively  to  our  sense  of  smell.  The 
broad  leaves  of  the  trees  waved  in  the  hot  air,  the 
dark- green  foliage  contrasting  strangely  with  the 
white  sand  of  the  beach,  and  the  water  in  the  harbor, 
which  was  of  a  dirty  yellow  color.  There  being  no 
wharves  for  vessels  to  unload  at,  the  cargoes  are  taken 
in  and  out  by  the  aid  of  lighters.  Tlie  lumber  is 
floated  to  the  shore,  and  gathered  up  by  the  negroes 
who  dash  into  the  water  after  it. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.       343 

We  were  not  allowed  to  land,  but  a  brown,  old 
Spaniard  looked  at  the  Captain's  letter,  and  offered 
eighteen,  dollars  a  thousand  for  the  lumber.  This  was 
not  enough,  so  the  Captain  ordered  us  to  pull  off  to 
the  brig.  The  sea  breeze  had  now  set  in,  and  it  was 
a  hard  job  for  us  to  undertake.  The  brig  had 
stood  off  from  the  harbor,  and  was  but  a  speck  in  the 
distance.  I  thought  we  should  never  reach  the  offing, 
the  wind  blew  so  hard.  The  groves  of  trees  began  to 
blend  into  a  long  line  of  green,  and  we  rowed  twenty 
miles,  before  we  reached  the  vessel.  It  was  the  hardest 
pull  that  ever  came  to  my  lot  in  a  ship's  boat.  We 
reached  her  at  length,  and  after  the  boat  was  hoisted 
in,  we  made  sail  for  Cuba. 

Porto  Rico,  a  "  port  of  riches,"  is  a  seaport  of  an 
island  of  the  same  name.  It  abounds  in  high  moun- 
tains and  fertile  valleys.  Vegetation  is  luxuriant,  and 
there  is  a  good  supply  of  pure  water.  It  produces 
rum,  sugar,  ginger,  molasses ;  and  many  fruits,  such 
as  the  fig,  bannana,  pine  apple,  cocoanut,  guava, 
citron,  lemon,  orange,  tamarind,  also  sweet  potatoes, 
tomatoes,  sweet  and  sour  sap,  grandallid,  star  apple, 
mango,  cashew,  paw-paw,  sweet  limes,  and  spices  can 
be  well  cultivated,  besides  the  yam,  plantain,  shad- 
dock and  cabbage  tree.  But  I  had  rather  have  a  good 
apple  or  Bartlett  pear,  than  any  of  the  tropical  fruits. 
The  people  are  thinly  clad  in  white,  the  slaves  wear- 
ing cloth  to  cover  their  nakedness,  and  no  more.  The 
island  has  an  abundance  of  poultry,  swine,  monkeys, 
birds  of  fine  plumage,  flies,  snakes,  lizards,  and  mos- 
quitoes ;  and  the  climate  is  generally  healthy,  but  like 


344       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life. 

all  other  tropical  islands,  is  subject  to  shocks  of  earth- 
quakes, and  hurricanes. 

We  had  lovely  weather,  and  fair  wind,  the  course 
was  north-west,  and  I  relieved  the  wheel  when  the 
men  complained  of  the  heat.  The  "  Peerless  "  steered 
easy  but  had  too  much  gear  for  the  large  iron  wheel. 
They  next  set  me  to  making  sword  mats.  Few  men 
can  take  this  job  and  finish  it,  and  I  was  glad  to  have 
my  mind  employed.  I  worked  when  I  felt  so  inclined, 
and  when  the  vessel  was  steady,  drew  pictures  of  the 
old  wreck,  each  of  the  crew  having  one  at  least.  The 
mate  had  four  sketches  for  himself.  Down  past  San 
Domingo  we  sailed  ;  the  high,  blue  land  towering  in 
the  sunny  sky,  and  the  white  vapors  hovering  over 
the  mountains. 

A  few  vessels  bound  the  same  way  that  we  were, 
outsailed  us.  "  We  don't  sail  very  fast,  sir ;  "  said  I 
to  the  Captain,  "  we  ought  to  beat  those  old  barques." 

"  Oh,  well,"  he  answered,  "  we  don't  sail  fast,  but 
we  sail  strong.  I  aint  in  a  hurry.  My  chance  to  sell 
will  be  good  enough  three  weeks  to  come ;  you  will 
see  Cuba  to-morrow." 

The  thirtieth  of  March  was  clear  and  hot.  We  were 
off  the  eastern  end  of  the  island  of  Cuba,  and  being 
wafted  along  by  the  light,  steady  wind.  The  land 
appeared  high  and  barren,  and  the  soil  of  a  dark  yel- 
low color.  Cuba  is  the  largest  and  most  productive 
of  the  West  India  islands,  it  is  seven  hundred  miles 
long,  and  eighty-nine  miles  in  breadth.  At  the  east 
end  it  begins  in  20°  20',  North  latitude,  and  extcjids 
from  74°  to  85°,  15°  West  longitude.    The  soil  is  not 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.       345 

so  fertile  as  Domingo,  or  Porto  Rico.  -Tliere  are 
mines  in  the  mountains,  but  the  working  of  them  is 
in  tiie  hands  of  the  Spanish  government,  and  not  much 
enterprise  is  displayed  in  developing  their  resources. 
The  land  produces  in  abundance,  tropical  fruits, 
sugar  cane,  ginger,  cinnamon,  tobacco,  and  grapes. 
The  hills  run  through  the  island  from  east  to  north- 
west, and  there  is  generally  a  vapor  hanging  over 
their  tops,  that  often  descends  in  rain  squalls.  Cuba 
must  come  out  from  the  hands  of  Spain  and  be 
fully  Yankeeized.  It  will  then  become  the  richest 
island  in  the  Western  world.  The  Cubans  have  no 
real,  go-ahead  enterprise.  The  whites  never  perform 
any  labor,  but  leave  it  to  the  slaves  and  coolies  who 
do  it  all. 

We  entered  the  harbor  of  St.  Jago,  and  passing  the 
ancient  walls  of  the  fort,  sailed  up  a  beautiful  inlet, 
the  land  on  either  hand  being  covered  with  trees  and 
flowers.  The  fort  that  overlooks  the  harbor's  mouth, 
is  the  oldest  one  in  Cuba.  I  never  found  a  person  who, 
could  tell  when  it  was  built.  It  occupies  a  position 
similar  to  that  of  the  Moro  Castle  at  Havana,  but  is 
smaller  and  very  much  older.  Solid  rock  rises  from 
the  water  ninety  feet  in  height,  and  the  old  sentry 
boxes  and  loop-holed  battlements  are  very  quaint  and 
fantastic.  Looking  back  we  espied  a  smart,  trim- 
looking  schooner  coming  by  the  frowning  forts.  The 
American  flag  was  flying  from  her  gaif,  and  she  walked 
right  by  us  like  a  steamer.  I  very  much  liked  her 
appearance  and  style,  and  made  up  my  mind  to  visit 
the  buxom  little  craft  when  in  port. 


346       Seven  Years  of  a  SailoT^s  Life, 

The  harbor  we  were  in  was  the  prettiest  I  had  ever 
entered.  Far  beyond  we  looked  on  fertile  valleys, 
groves  of  trees  peculiar  to  the  climate,  and  hills  from 
the  tops  of  which  flags  were  telegraphing  our  coming. 
The  port  was  full  of  vessels,  and  on  our  right  hand 
was  the  town  of  St.  Jago  de  Cuba,  with  its  blue  and 
yellow  houses,  white  and  red  public  buildings,  and 
tall  Cathedral.  We  anchored  among  ships  that  dis- 
played the  flags  of  the  powerful  nations.  Every 
Spanish  vessel  and  boat  was  dressed  with  the  na- 
tional flag,  which  consisted  of  two  stripes  of  red  and 
one  of  yellow.  We  were  soon  visited  by  gentlemen 
from  shore  who  questioned  us  for  the  purpose  of  ob- 
taining an  account  of  our  wreck,  and  then  a  boat 
was  speedily  prepared  to  take  us  to  town. 

Many  vessels  were  loading  with  sugar,  for  St.  Jago 
ships  a  great  quantity  during  the  winter  months.  Our 
party  of  four  and  the  Captain  soon  reached  the  shore, 
and  were  surrounded  by  negroes,  clad  in  gala  cos- 
tume, that  being  a  week  of  festivity  in  memory  of 
some  departed  saint.  Sounds  of  music  and  fandango 
parties  were  on  every  side.  Past  sugar  houses,  and 
stagnant  pools  of  water,  we  went,  up  the  narrow, 
dirty  street,  to  the  Hotel.  There  we  found  the 
American  Consul's  office.  The  person  .who  acted  as 
Consul  appeared  and  received  us  very  shabbily.  He 
was  an  old,  white-haired  man,  nervous  and  fretful, 
and  clad  in  a  dressing  gown,  with  his  pen  in  his 
mouth.  We  told  our  story  of  the  wreck  and  rescue, 
which  he  noted  down.  The  Captain  of  the  "  Peer- 
less" made  his  statement,  which  was  also  recorded. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life,       347 

The  Captain  then  remarked  that  his  charge  of  the  ship- 
wrecked men  ceased,  and  that  it  was  the  Consul's  duty 
as  the  representative  of  the  United  States  Govern- 
ment, to  inquire  into  our  wants  and  to  supply  us  with 
means  of  support  until  we  could  return  home.  At 
this  the  Consul  endeavored  to  induce  the  Captain  to 
keep  us  on  board  the  "  Peerless,"  offering  him  seventy- 
five  cents  a  day  for  each  of  us,  adding  that  if  that 
was  not  sufficient,  we  would  probably  work  enough  to 
make  up  the  deficiency.  Our  men  did  not  like  this. 
After  all  they  had  suffered  they  thought  themselves 
entitled  to  better  treatment,  especially  as  their  coun- 
try had  made  provision  for  them  to  that  end. 

The  acting  Consul  wheeled  his  chair  about,  and, 
addressing  me,  said  ; 

"  Well,  young  man,  what  do  you  want  ?  "  , 

"  I  want  a  place  to  lay  my  head  while  I  am  on  your 
hands  ;  food  and  clothing,  shoes  and  bedding,  and  a 
chance  to  be  sent  to  the  States." 

"  Oh,  ho  ;  you  want  too  much.  Ever  served  in  the 
war  ?  Ever  been  married  ?  Are  you  a  Yankee-born 
man  ? " 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  I,  "  I  will  answer  all  clearly.  I 
have  served  my  country.  I  am  not  married.  I  am  a 
Massachusetts  boy,  born  in  Salem." 

"  What,  what !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  ''  do  you  know  any 
Salem  folks  and  the  merchants  there  ? "  and  he 
named  over  many  familiar  names. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  do,"  said  I;  "  and  now  we  understand 
each  other  better,  I  must  have  what  is  my  right.  Our 
Government  makes  by  law  a  provision  for  us,  and  I 
must  have  all  it  grants." 


348       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailot^s  Life, 

At  this  moment  the  Captain  of  the  smart  schooner 
entered  with  his  manifest  and  other  papers,  and  the 
Consul  told  him  he  must  take  me.  After  much  talk, 
terms  were  agreed  upon,  and  I  was  to  go  home  in  the 
"  Dan  Holmes."  This  suited  me  well.  I  then  re- 
ceived a  dead  seaman's  blankets  and  clothes  bag,  a 
rough  pair  of  shoes,  and  a  shirt.  I  asked  for  no 
more,  feeling  ashamed  of  the  Consul's  surly  conduct 
towards  me.  I  paid  three  dollars  and  one  half,  in 
gold,  for  a  pair  of  heavy  shoes,  and  followed  the  Cap- 
tain to  his  vessel. 

She  was  all  my  fancy  desired,  and  I  went  to  work 
and  rigged  a  "  burton  fall "  in  ten  minutes  after  I 
was  aboard.  The  Captain  stared  in  astonishment  at 
my  work,  and  in  a  few  moments  I  was  called  to  din- 
ner in  the  handsome  cabin.  The  Captain,  address- 
ing me,  said :  "  I  am  pleased  to  see  you  take  hold  of 
work,  and  eat  like  a  man  ;  it  is  well  you  should  know 
that  you  are  a  passenger,  I  suppose.  Go  to  the  mate 
if  you  want  anything,  and  keep  straight  iii  all 
things." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  sir,"  said  I,  "  if  you  think 
that  I  came  here  to  lay  idle  on  your  hands.  You  never 
will  have  cause  for  regret,  on  my  account.  I  am  at 
home  in  these  boats,  and  shall  work  as  hard  and  faith- 
fully as  any  man  aboard.    I  am  at  your  service,  sir." 

He  was  satisfied,  and  so  was  I.  Tlie  mate  was  fi'om 
Cape  Cod,  and  took  an  interest  in  me. 

"  I  did  not  think  you  would  turn  to,  so  soon  ; "  he 
said. 

"  Why,  do  you  think  I  can't  work  ?    I  am  ready  for 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.       349 

a  good  time,  or  for  hard  work.  I  am  on  a  Yankee 
boat  now,  and  will  make  myself  as  one  of  the  crew." 

He  laughed,  and  when  the  sugar  began  to  roll  in, 
the  crew  found  I  was  at  the  head  of  the  rope,  and  a 
"  chanty  man."  We  rolled  the  sugar  upon  the  stages, 
over  the  bows,  and  at  every  hogshead  I  gave  them  a 
different  song.  We  worked  hard  all  day,  and  geu' 
erally  had  time  at  night  to  go  ashore.  The  men 
made  me  their  chum  straightway,  and  I  wanted  for 
nothing  that  the  others  had. 

We  went  to  the  Promenade  every  fine  night ;  walk- 
ed among  gentlemen  and  ladies,  senoritas  and  naval 
officers,  Creoles  and  pale  northern  women,  all  talking, 
walking,  and  listening  to  the  strains  of  charming  mu- 
sic that  came  from  the  full  reed  and  brass  band.  It 
was  pleasure  for  one  and  all. 


350       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

Festival  Time  —  A  Wealthy  Creole  —  Daily  Sights  in  St.  Jago  — 
Hospitahty  —  A  Spanish  Bull  Fight  —  Our  Cargo  all  Aboard  — 
Outward  Bound  —  The  "Dan  Holmes"  under  Full  Sail  —  A 
Swift  Passage  and  a  Sure  One  —  Off  Jersey  City  —  In  Port  — 
Once  More  at  Home  —  A  Farewell  to  Sea  Life  —  Yankee  Ned's 
Last  Words  to  His  Shipmates. 


N  St.  Jago,  the  slaves  were  merry.  Music  and 
dancing  were  on  every  street  night  and  day. 
The  festivities  lasted  a  week.  Fires  burned 
at  night  in  the  squares,  and  everybody  was  gay.  I  was 
twenty-three  days  in  Cuba,  and  did  not  see  a  native 
intoxicated,  though  liquors  of  all  kinds  were  cheap 
and  plenty.  Good  wine  was  fourteen  cents  a  bottle, 
in  silver,  and  cigars  a  penny  apiece. 

The  shipper  of  our  load  of  sugar  was  a  wealthy 
Creole,  owning  lands,  ships,  cattle,  and  slaves.  One 
of  his  vessels,  the  "  La  Creole,"  was  a  splendid  ves- 
sel of  the  old  style,  and  at  every  point  clean  and 
handsome.  Although  this  Creole  was  immensely 
wealthy,  he  dressed  very  plain,  and  often  came  in  his 
volante,  to  the  head  of  the  wharf.  His  carriage  had 
silver  steps,  hubs,  and  bands.  The  postillion  and 
horses  fairly  glittered  with  gold  and  silver.  The  vo- 
lante is  the  only  carriage  a  true  Cuban  cares  to  ride 
in.  They  are  taken  better  care  of  than  a  piano.  I 
have  seen  them  placed  in  parlors,  and  covered  with 
rich  silk. 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life.       351 

The  crew  of  the  "Dan  Holmes"  were  all  young 
men  from  New  Jersey.  They  treated  me  well,  and 
proved  true  friends.  The  Captam  and  mates  found 
me  first  and  foremost  in  duty,  and  liked  me  all  the 
better  for  it.  The  cigars,  fruit,  and  wine  were 
equally  shared  at  the  table,  and  respect  to  all  was  a 
characteristic  of  the  men. 

Boys  staggered  up  the  stage,  with  heavily  loaded 
baskets  on  their  heads.  The  freshly  plucked  "fruit  they 
ofifered  was  ripe  and  wholesome,  but  there  was  no 
satisfaction  in  eating  a  half  dozen  oranges  ;  the  juice 
was  only  the  part  we  desired,  and  the  bannanas  were 
too  clogging.  No  vessels  touched  the  wharf,  the  an- 
chors and  chain  astern  kept  them  in  position. 

There  were  some  vessels  quite  fanciful  in  their  style. 
They  were  new  and  clean,  with  wire  rigging  and 
plenty  of  metalic  work  to  be  kept  clean.  Awnings 
were  spread,  flags  were  flying,  and  the  air  was  close 
and  hot  until  the  sea-breeze  came  in  at  noon.  Sugar, 
molasses,  tobacco,  wines,  tiles,  shocks  and  hoops ;  lum- 
ber, garlic,  hay,  hides,  machinery  and  groceries,  were 
piled  promiscuously  on  the  wharf.  Men-of-war  and 
merchant  boats  coming  and  going  ;  slaves  busy  pul- 
ling ;  canvas  flapping  in  the  wind ;  telegraph  flags 
flying  from  the  station ;  crowds  of  hard  looking  cool- 
ies ;  chain-gangs  with  clanking  fetters,  dragging  their 
carts ;  mules,  donkeys,  and  negroes,  were  the  every 
day  sights  we  beheld. 

Among  the  shipping  the  two  tall  masts  of  the  "  Dan 
Holmes "  towered  above  all  others,  and  she  could 
carry  sail  on  them  till  all  was  blue.     Nearly  every 


352       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life, 

American  vessel  was  manned  by  foreigners.  The 
number  of  Yankee  seamen  in  the  merchant  service  is 
not  above  two  for  every  large  craft  that  leaves  the 
States.  Almost  every  nationality  is  represented  in 
these  vessels,  and  when  a  full  American  crew  is  found 
they  are  appreciated. 

I  wandered  away  one  pleasant  night  alone,  and 
traversed  the  close,  narrow  streets,  until  I  was  lost  in 
the  depths  of  the  town.  If  I  was  not  on  the  wharf 
before  ten  o'clock,  I  should  be  arrested,  and  placed 
under  key  till  morning.  I  knocked  at  a  heavy  door, 
and  a  fine-looking  girl  appeared.  Of  her  I  inquired 
my  way.  She  called  her  father,  who  pleasantly  ac- 
costed me,  and  there  immediately  followed  a  conver- 
sation in  which  his  broken  English  and  my  broken 
Spanish  must  have  proved  quite  amusing  to  a  person 
familiar  with  both  languages. 

The  result  was,  I  was  cordially  invited  to  enter.  The 
grillet  cakes  were  spread  before  me  ;  bottles  of  wine 
and  fresh  tomatoes  were  laid  on  the  little  table ;  the 
girl  and  father  carried  on  a  chat  in  broken  English, 
and  my  attempt  at  the  Spanish  tongue  was  laughable 
to  all  of  us.  The  father  and  daughter  blew  clouds 
of  smoke  through  their  noses,  and  gave  me  a  number 
of  fine  cigars.  The  time  passed  pleasantly,  and  when 
I  left,  the  old  gentleman  accompanied  me  to  the 
wharf. 

The  market  was  well  supplied  with  vegetables,  fruit, 
meat,  and  fish.  It  was  built  twenty  feet  higher  than 
the  street,  ^o  that  a  free  ventilation  of  pure  air  might 
keep  the  stock  in  good  order.     A  large,   splendid 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor^ s  Life,       353 

cathedral  stood  at  the  head  of  the  park,  and  priests  in 
canoe-shaped  hats  were  passing  in  and  out. 

We  bought  good  and  well-made  cigars  cheap,  a 
hundred  for  a  dollar.  In  every  store  in  which  we 
made  a  purchase,  cigars  were  presented  to  us.  In  one 
store  we  sung  army  songs  all  the  evening,  and  no  one 
molested  us.  All  the  men  ha(i  money  and  friends. 
The  Cubans  whom  we  met  admired  everything  Amer- 
ican, and  hoped  soon  to  throw  off  the  Spanish  yoke 
and  come  under  the  rule  of  Uncle  Sam.  The  city 
has  gas  works,  steam  cars,  aqueducts,  hotels,  and 
billiard  halls.  Most  of  the  houses  are  two  stories  in 
height,  though  many  are  three  or  four.  There  was 
a  low,  rumbling  noise  one  day,  and  the  people  ran 
out  into  the  streets  in  terror,  fearing  an  earthquake  ; 
but  every  house  stood  firm  on  its  foundation. 

One  lovely  Sabbath  we  saw  crowds  of  gaily-dressed 
people,  slaves,  priests,  captains  and  sailors,  hurrying 
in  one  direction.  Horsemen  and  footmen,  hand- 
somely decked  with  gold  and  silver  lace,  and  volantes 
with  fair  ladies,  were  driving  through  the  crowd. 
Having  some  loose  change  with  me,  I  followed  the 
people  and  paid  my  seventy-five  cents  admission  fee 
at  the  entrance  into  which  they  were  flocking. 

I  found  myself  in  a  large  room  or  enclosure.  High 
tiers  of  seats  ran  around  the  circular  pit,  and  flags 
and  banners  were  streaming  from  the  sides  and  roof. 
Bands  of  music  poured  forth  their  strains.  Thou- 
sands of  fans  and  hats  were  waving  to  and  fro.  I 
was  about  to  see  a  real  Spanish  bull-fight.  At  length 
it  began,  and  I  sat  with  the  immense  throng  for  the 


354       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailoi^s  Life, 

space  of  three  hours,  amid  the  shouts  of  spectators, 
and  the  roarings  of  the  maddened  bulls. 

At  length  it  was  over  —  the  bloody  scene  was  end- 
ed ;  four  bulls  were  killed,  and  one  horse  gored  to 
death.  The  nimble  *'  matador  "  finished  the  stagger- 
ing, bleeding  bulls  by  a  thrust  of  his  heavy  and  sharp 
sword  in  the  spine.  As  fast  as  one  bull  was  disposed 
of  another  took  his  place,  and  the  same  scene  of  ir- 
ritating, fighting,  and  despatching,  was  enacted  again. 

The  vessel  was  loaded  deep  with  hogsheads  and 
barrels  of  sugar,  and  we  gave  our  berth  to  the  "  Peer- 
less "  and  "  Old  Dominion,"  then  hauled  out  in  the 
stream  and  set  up  the  rigging.  The  cool  sea-breeze 
came  to  our  heated  bodies  and  burning  heads.  We 
cleared  the  decks  and  made  everything  snug.  It 
was  a  beautiful  sunset,  and  after  supper  we  laid  on 
the  forecastle,  smoking  fine  cigars,  and  enjoying  the 
land  breeze,  which  had  begun  to  blow.  At  night  it 
rained  heavily,  but  at  the  dawn  of  day  the  clouds 
broke  away.  We  ran  the  bunting  to  the  topmast 
heads,  soon  had  the  pilot  aboard,  and  .at  noon  once 
more  passed  the  ancient  fort.  We  were  on  our  home- 
ward trip,  and  had  a  vessel  in  our  charge  that  was 
able  to  sail  the  world  around,  deep  loaded  or  light. 

The  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  of  April  found  us 
beating  up  for  Cape  Maize,  but  it  was  four  days  be- 
fore we  could  give  her  sheet  and  slip  away  through 
the  eastern  chaimel  of  Cuba.  That  night  there  was 
a  heavy  dew.  The  seventeenth  of  April  we  stood  off 
Cape  Maize  before  a  strong  east  wind.  Our  course 
laid  that  day  north-east  and  north,  and  we  hugged 


Seven  Years  of  a  Sailof^s  Life.       355 

the  wind  like  a  yacht.  At  midnight  on  the  eight- 
eenth we  were  clear  of  land.  The  light  on  the  Cape 
was  settling  fast  away.  At  daylight  we  made  West 
Crooked  Island,  and  were  slipping  over  the  water 
like  a  hound  just  loosed  from  the  keeper's  hand. 
We  made  Fortune  Islands  at  noon,  ran  by  long, 
black  reefs  of  rocks,  about  which  churned  water  and 
fleecy  foam  were  abundant.  AVe  hove -to  off  Fortune 
Islands  and  bought  a  number  of  queen  conch-shells, 
fine  and  large. 

Away  we  went,  dancing  through  the  intricate  chan- 
nels and  reef-passages,  and  at  dark  shot  out  into 
the  wide  Atlantic.  We  had  a  good,  fair  wind  and 
lovely  weather,  and  at  length  had  to  reduce  sail. 
The  wind  was  too  full,  and  the  seas  ran  so  high,  and 
the  vessel  steered  so  wild  we  were  obliged  to  heave 
to,  fearing  that  the  vessel  might  trip  or  be  swept  by  a 
sea. 

She  lay  like  a  duck  on  the  water,  and  in  two  days 
the  gale  abated.  During  the  blow  we  saw  a  schooner, 
beating  up  against  the  wind,  under  three  reefed  sails. 
The  huge  waves  dashed  the  little  craft  on  end  at  every 
sea,  but  she  righted  and  tried  it  again.  We  watched 
the  daring  little  vessel  and  found  that  she  kept  on  her 
keel,  and  was  "  master  of  the  situation." 

The  wind  came  to  the  westward  on  the  twentieth 
of  April,  and  away  we  went,  making  good  time  to  the 
north  and  east.  We  soon  came  to  the  Gulf  Stream. 
The  western  gale  began  to  blow. 

"  Put  her  to  it,  my  lads,"  said  the  Captain  ;  ''  we'll 
make  good  time  for  the  Jersey  coast.     Let  the  men 


356       Seven  Years  of  a  Sailor's  Life. 

fix  her  up  a  bit ;  we  want  to  look  decent  going  into 
port." 

We  crossed  the  Gulf  once  more.  I  did  not  say, 
"  Good  bye,  old  gulf,"  this  time.  Well  did  I  re- 
member the  last  time  I  crossed  the  swift-running 
belt  of  water.  As  I  laid  my  hand  on  the  spokes  of 
the  iron  wheel,  I  turned  my  head  to  the  south,  and 
took  a  long  look  at  the  dark,  steaming  water.  The 
light  mist  waved  and  floated  in  the  cool  air,  and  I 
imagined  I  saw  a  hand-shaped  cloud,  that  waved  me 
to  the  northward.  I  have  a  dread  of  crossing  it  again, 
and  hope  I  never  shall. 

On  we  went,  skipping  and  slipping  over  the  shining 
sea.  There  was  no  order  cried  out,  "  Station  for 
stays,"  or  "  Main  top-sail  haul,"  as  I  had  once  heard. 

May  the  First,  we  made  the  Highlands  of  Neversink, 
right  on  our  starboard  bow;  hauled  the  vessel  on  the 
wind,  and  passed  the  Narrows  at  sunset.  We  came 
to  anchor  off  Jersey  City  at  dusk,  and  then  I  felt 
thankful  for  my  safe  arrival,  and  rejoiced  that  I  was 
once  more  among  home  scenes. 

The  next  day  we  took  a  tug-boat,  and  were  towed 
to  Brooklyn.  There  were  dozens  of  sugar-loaded 
vessels,  and  our  jaunty  schooner  soon  had  her  berth 
assigned  her.  The  Captain  gave  me  money ;  the 
crew  likewise,  the  latter  having  been  paid  off.  I 
could  not  go  to  my  New  York  friends  with  my  sad 
tale  of  shipwreck,  though  they  would  have  helped  me 
to  anything  I  asked,  so  I  resolved  to  go  home,  and 
start  up  the  ladder  of  prosperity  again. 

The  wreck  had  stripped  me  of  my  wages  and  all  my 


Seven  Years  of  a  Satlof's  Life.       357 

chattels.  I  must  begin  again,  and  once  more  strug- 
gle for  success.  My  parents  had  always  said  :  "  Ned, 
you  are  going  against  our  wishes  and  counsels  ;  don't 
go  to  sea.  But  if  you  go,  and  come  home  sick, 
wounded,  or  shipwrecked,  we  will  do  all  in  our  power 
for  your  relief." 

I  had  been  seven  voyages,  and  made  two  unlucky 
ones,  I  dreaded  another,  so  it  was  advisable  for  me  to 
recruit  at  home,  and  then  turn  my  mind  to  business 
ashore. 

I  left  the  crew  of  the  schooner  with  reluctance.  I 
had  been  a  stranger  and  they  had  taken  me  in,  poor, 
naked  almost,  and  hungry,  and  they  had  proved  good 
and  fast  friends.  Farewell,  ''  Dan  Holmes,"  Captain 
and  crew ;  may  peace  and  prosperity  be  your  constant 
companions  through  life. 

While  on  the  ferry  boat,  I  met  two  rogues  in  sea- 
man's clothes  ;  they  tried  every  art  of  a  depraved  man 
to  lead  me  off  with  them  ;  even  tried  to  take  my  little 
bag  of  clothing  and  shells,  and  offered  me  drugged 
cigars,  and  money.  I  told  a  policeman  to  keep  his  eyes 
on '.them,  and  they  muttered  between  their  clenched 
teeth,  He  is  too  shrewd  ;  but  he  is  just  paid  off,  we 
will  dog  him,  and  have  him  yet."  I  dodged  the  ruf- 
fians, by  exchanging  horse  cars  at  the  corner  of  West 
Street,  and  saw  no  more  of  them,  and  was  soon  speed- 
ing up  the  harbor  and  through  Hell-gate  on  the 
steamer  ''  City  of  Newport."  Here  I  met  Hartley, 
Willey,  Smith,  and  Casli,  four  old  chums  on  the  gun- 
boat, and  spent  the  night  in  smoking,  and  talking 
over  old  times.   They  had  just  been  discharged,  happy 


358       Seven  Years  of  a  Satlof^s  Life. 

enough,  from  the  navy,  having  re-enlisted  since  I  left 
them  in  Provincetown. 

I  arrived  at  Boston  in  good  season.  Kind  hearts 
and  willing  hands  soon  supplied  me  with  good  ap- 
parel, and  I  was  shortly  on  my  way,  once  more,  to 
my  home,  my  parents,  and  my  friends.  Many  were 
the  exclamations  of  surprise  that  greeted  my  arrival. 

As  Yankee  Ned,  the  sailor,  I  here  close  my  log-book, 
and  bid  farewell  to  the  past.  I  have  a  new  mission 
to  fulfil.  New  life,  new  hopes  inspire  me ;  new  joys  are 
before  me.     Home,  friends,  peace  and  duty,  all  hail ! 

Roll  on.  Temperance  Cause ;  roll  on,  wheels  of 
Humanity  and  Freedom !  Shine  on.  Star  of  Faith 
and  Progress,  until  the  sailors  of  these  mighty  and 
glorious  States  shall  be  united  as  a  band  of  loving 
brothers,  working  for  each  other's  good. 

May  new  ideas,  new  aspirations,  animate  them  to 
nobleness  of  character. 

A  tear  to  the  memory  of  the  loved  and  the  lost,  and 
a  hope  of  a  better  life  for  them  all. 


Q) 


An  Album  Photoobxph  of  "  Yankee  Ned,"  the  author  of  this  book,  In  sailor's 
costume,  has  been  produced  by  one  of  our  best  artists.  Price,  25  cents.  Address 
the  Publishers,  Adams  &  Co,  25  Bromfield  St.,  Boston. 


